


Separation Anxiety

by Aksannyi



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Family, Motherhood, Parenthood, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-06-09 10:45:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6902662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aksannyi/pseuds/Aksannyi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ziva is forced to lay low after the house fire, knowing that she is presumed dead, but having to be apart from her daughter is something she never thought she'd have to do. Angst. On the other side of the world, Tony begins to piece together clues that lead him to believe Ziva is alive. Tiva.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Missing Her

**Author's Note:**

> Received this anon prompt on tumblr: 
> 
> "Ziva is totally alive. No doubt about it. But imagine the heartbreak she must feel having sent Tali away. Not because she doesn't trust Tony, but because she has never spent a single day away from her little girl before. She must be anxious and devasted, hiding somewhere in a run down parisian flat praying that Tony will understand her signs and reunite with her asap. Imagine her pacing and praying. Imagine the reunion with her daughter. Someone should write this!"
> 
> Oh my goodness, anon, that someone is obviously going to be me. (Not sure if you know this, but I actually don’t live with my own kids. I relate to this so hard.)
> 
> I actually think I may write a few more chapters of this. It doesn’t feel complete yet, but I don’t usually publish chapter by chapter, so we’ll see.

Laying low had never been so difficult.

Before, she’d never had to worry about anything but her own safety. Was she well-concealed? Had people spotted her? Would she give her position away somehow? But before, she hadn’t had Tali.

Technically, she didn’t have Tali _now,_ either.

She’d been down to the hotel’s business lounge briefly, her hair covering much of her face, as typed in the flight number she knew that Orli had taken her daughter on. She hoped that this singular Google search wouldn’t give her away, but she _had_ to know if they’d made it safely. As soon as Tali landed on American soil, Ziva would feel so much less anxiety about the entire situation.

Trent Kort and his cronies were still at large, and although they surely assumed that she was dead, the stakes had never been higher.

If Kort found out that she and Tony had had a daughter … Ziva had shuddered at the thought of it down in the business lounge, and she shuddered at the thought of it again now.

 _“Ima, scared!”_ Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the fear in her baby’s eyes. She could feel the way she had clung to her mother, stubbornly refusing to let go. She’d been strong then, but the tears fell of their own accord every time since.

It felt like _ages_ since the last time she’d seen her girl’s smile. Sure, she had photographs with her, but they were not the same as hearing that cheerful laugh, touching that soft skin, running her fingers through those tangled curls, or just feeling her comforting presence. The same comforting presence that Tony had always given her – that knowledge that she was undoubtedly trusted and loved.

Ziva lay back on the bed and let the tears fall.

Her trip to the lounge yesterday had confirmed Tali’s safe arrival into DC, but she had no idea what might be happening right now. How had Tony reacted? Was Tali missing her? Did she remember her father, despite having only been introduced to him through photos?

_Will she remember me, when we are finally reunited?_

_If,_ she corrected herself. Her plans hinged on Tony picking up the subtle clues she’d left that she had not perished in the fire. The only thing she could count on with absolute certainty was that Tony would ensure that Trent Kort saw the inside of his grave.

She rolled over to her side and blinked at the empty bed beside her. She _missed_ her little girl. She and Tali were a team, they went everywhere together. Tali had been the sunlight in her life, the reminder that love was real and tangible, and she desperately missed that.

Missed the moments where they would lie down together in Ziva’s big bed and Tali would scoot up close to her, the warmth of her little body lulling Ziva into a restful nap. The light, even breathing that made Ziva’s heart sing with awe as she realized that this was an actual life, a life that she and Tony had created, a child with her soft innocence and zest for life and none of the baggage that Ziva thought had actually mattered, once upon a time.

Tali _loved_ to snuggle, and despite never having been a snuggler herself, Ziva couldn’t help but pull her close, feel that connection between them, and let her daughter slowly drift off to sleep in the comfort of her arms. Perhaps that was something she had gotten from Tony, for the only other time she’d fallen asleep in someone’s arms was the one night they’d spent in this very hotel.  

 _“Please_ be okay, Tali,” she prayed, wiping a tear from her face. She could not contact anyone. She was presumed dead. She could only wait, and waiting _killed_ her, especially now.

What if Tony never realized that she was still alive? What if she never saw her daughter again?

Ziva’s heart physically pained her, as though someone had reached in and squeezed. She _would_ see Tali again, and Tony, too. Eventually it would be safe to reveal herself. Eventually it would be safe for her to return.

How much of Tali’s life would she miss out on before that happened? It had been more than a day, now, and it already felt like too much. Sure, it would not be healthy to _never_ have separation from her child, but she had hoped to delay that for a little while longer – perhaps when she went to school.

But not _now,_ Tali was still a baby. She was entirely dependent on outside forces for survival. Tali could not fend for herself, and Ziva had taken on the mantle not only of _mother,_ but _protector._

 _“It’s my job to protect you.”_ Hadn’t Tony said that once? Or something similar? Now it was her turn. She must be the protector, the one who sacrificed for the good of her family.

Her _family._ Something she hadn’t known in so long. She desperately longed for it, to have it back. Not her mother and father, no, but her daughter. Her … Tony.

She let out a deep sigh, sitting up and wiping the tears from her eyes. She could not just lie around and mope. _Why not?_ a voice inside her head asked, but she pushed it away. She also could not go out and see the sights, for although she was presumed dead, all it would take is one person to recognize her, and all of her carefully constructed plans would crash around her head.

The only way she could be safe, have a life for herself, her daughter, and maybe even Tony (if he wanted), would be to wait. She could not reach out to any of her contacts for information on Tony and Tali, any more than she could reach out for information on Kort.

But _oh,_ the waiting was killing her slowly from the inside. Tali. She must be so scared, so confused. Surely Tony would love her? Surely Tony would take care of her, comfort her in her need? Tali knew Tony, at least from photographs, and all of the stories she had told her, of the brave knight in shining armor who had come to the rescue of so many. Not just her – no, there really were so many. Tony was a true hero, and she longed to tell him so.

 _“Where abba?”_ Tali would ask, and Ziva’s heart would break. She deserved to know her father. Tony deserved to know his little girl. And if it had been safe for her to reach out, had her position in Israel with her daughter not been so precarious, she might have taken a chance that Tony would not hate her forever for having kept this secret from him.

“I’m so sorry, Tony,” she whispered, hoping beyond hope that Tony would feel it somehow, in his soul, perhaps, that she was alive and sorry and needed his forgiveness.

But Tali had already loved her father, and she had never even met him. She wondered how their first meeting had gone. Oh, how she wished she could have been there to see Tali’s eyes light up with recognition when she saw him for the first time. How she wished she could have seen Tony with his arms wrapped tightly around their little girl, softly stroking her hair as he held her in his arms.

A tear dropped to the bedspread, and she chuckled through her tears. She had never cried this much in her life. But then, she had never been a mother without a child before, had she?

She _missed_ her. Desperately.

She had never felt this crushing pain of loss before. Never. Not even when her sister had been killed had she felt this empty inside. Being a mother was a new sort of pain. She could hardly explain it, how every emotion she’d felt before was nothing compared to how she’d begun to feel anew. It was as though having a child unlocked an entirely new depth of emotions. Joy became joy of the pure, unadulterated sort, and sorrow became an unbearable sort of emptiness, the likes of which she had never known or understood.

How she longed to hear her daughter’s voice. Perhaps one of the smattering of words she’d learned, her laugh, a shriek, or – heaven forbid – her crying. _Anything,_ just to have her back, to feel her closeness and not this emptiness that being away from her child had wrought her.

Ziva had always prided herself on being strong. She’d been the tough warrior daughter, the assassin, the ninja. Never show weakness, never let emotion take control. She was strong. She could handle anything.

“Or so I thought,” she muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Everything she’d done in her life had taken strength, including giving birth, but _this?_ No. She was not strong enough for this.

But she must endure. That is the choice she _had_ to make, to ensure her daughter’s survival, and her own. Enduring this separation now could not break her, no matter how much she felt like she was already broken by it. She could endure, _must_ endure, for Tali.

But god, how she longed. “Come back to me, my little lamb,” she spoke softly into the air, hoping that her prayers would be answered and that soon she would once again hold her daughter in her arms.


	2. Photographs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is at home after having his world turned upside down with the daughter he never knew of, and he's starting to put some pieces together regarding what happened, including the suspicion that Ziva is not actually dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided that this fic will probably have nine chapters total. It is my hope to publish every day, but please do not get upset if I cannot stick to that. 
> 
> Part of this chapter is an evolved version of a text post I made on tumblr. You may want to have some Kleenex ready because it's a very emotional scene, but it felt so important to include it.

Tali had finally fallen asleep, her stuffed puppy held closely to her chest as she snored softly, and Tony looked over at her wistfully for a moment before he stood up, intent on making some plans.

He had said he was going to go to Israel to find some answers, and he fully intended to make good on that promise, but there were so many things he had to accomplish before doing that. His passport was valid, as was Tali’s, but he’d have to work out accommodations, flight schedules, traveling with a near two-year old … it was a lot.

For now, though, he could pack, which was something smaller that he could feel like he was accomplishing without too much stress. Honestly, being a father was overwhelming, and having only minimal support from his team was difficult. _Ziva had managed this by herself for nearly two years,_ he thought to himself.

Then again, Ziva was basically Superwoman.

He didn’t know _how_ to be a parent. People were supposed to learn this sort of thing gradually, and generally with help. Not all at once. And it seemed so cruel to him, to have this child, utterly and entirely dependent on him, that the universe would conspire that she would only ever know one of her parents at a time. Would she remember Ziva in a few years? Would she remember the smooth sound of her voice, perhaps from lullabies she might have sung, or the soothing words of comfort she might have given to coax her gently to sleep?

And him, he now had this piece of Ziva, but _not Ziva,_ and it was like having her but not and it was just too much, at least for the moment.

He reached for one of his empty duffel bags almost mechanically, partially occupied with what he should pack but mostly distracted by his thoughts of Ziva.

_How had Tali survived, but not Ziva?_

Something just felt off, somehow. And then Orli had come in with Tali and he had been so surprised and taken in by the fact that he had a daughter that he hadn’t really dwelled upon the Director of Mossad’s words or any of the logistics of what he’d heard.

It wasn’t like anyone could really blame him for being distracted, though, considering he’d gone from an eternal bachelor with a job that basically had no upward mobility to a single father in half a second.

But now that he had the chance to process things, _really_ process things, he wasn’t entirely sure that Orli was telling him everything. He really didn't trust the Israelis, which was funny, considering that the only person he ever really trusted had been Israeli, at least when he first met her. But Ziva was an exception and not the norm. He hated that he felt this way, but all of his dealings with Israelis – or more accurately, Mossad – had been steeped in mistrust and lies.

Judging by what he knew of Orli, just from personal interaction and the things Ziva had told him, he knew that she wasn’t a trustworthy individual.

There was something she wasn’t telling him.

He was tired, but in his gut, he knew something was wrong with what he had been told.

Pinching his brow between his thumb and his forefinger, Tony forced himself not to dwell on those thoughts at the moment. He and Tali would be leaving together soon, anyway, and he’d have plenty of time to put the pieces together after he got some sleep.

Tony walked out to the living room and picked up Tali’s bag, along with some of the new outfits that Abby and Ellie had surprised him with before he’d left. Shockingly enough, only one of the outfits had anything resembling skulls on them, and it was a pink skull shaped with rhinestones on a purple t-shirt. Tony had shaken his head at that, but Abby would be Abby.

At least she hadn’t put her in black lipstick and platform boots.

Once he got back to his bedroom, he set the bag on his bed and began to rifle through it. There were only a couple of clean outfits left, along with some diapers, the framed photograph, and a few other small toys of Tali’s. He would have to do laundry before they left. 

He felt something protruding from the side of the bag, so he unzipped the side pouch and reached inside, pulling out a DVD case without a label. When he opened it up, he saw a plain white disc with no labels on it. Was it one of Tali’s favorite shows? He wondered if Tali would recognize it if he showed it to her, but she was fast asleep, and he wasn’t about to wake her up just to find out.

Normally, he’d watch on the big screen, but Tali was asleep on the living room couch, so he reached for the remote on his bedside table and turned the TV on, flipping to the HDMI input for the DVD player. Never in his wildest dreams had he anticipated needing more space than he had, because it had always been just himself, but it wasn’t going to matter in a few days, anyway, since he’d be leaving. When they got back, he could worry about getting a bigger place.

He put the disc on the tray and pushed the button to close it, sitting back on his bed before he reached for his remote and pressed play. He braced himself for some bouncy singing kid show, but the first thing he saw was Ziva.

She was pregnant, and _god,_ she was absolutely beautiful. She was speaking Hebrew with whomever was holding the camera, and he couldn’t tear his eyes off of her when she said, “It’s a girl!” In Hebrew excitedly. _God, she’s breathtaking,_ he thought to himself, swallowing a lump in his throat. The picture she’d taken for that one case hadn’t even come close to _this._ She was absolutely radiant in a way that he’d never seen before.

Ziva waved to the camera and then the scene switched, and she was lying in a hospital bed, her tired face glistening with sweat. Voices speaking in Hebrew faded in and out as a doctor handed her the baby, still naked and wailing and _perfect._ The lump in his throat grew even bigger. Ziva spoke in English then, addressing the camera. “I did not want to be filmed giving birth,” as a way of explanation.

He wasn’t entirely sure he would have wanted to see that, so he smiled back at Ziva’s face on the screen. Again the scene changed, and Ziva looked much more composed, her surroundings changed. She was still in the hospital, but her bed was propped up and Tali sat at her breast, swaddled and suckling contentedly. Ziva was blushing as she spoke in Hebrew to her friend, obviously not used to baring this much skin.  

And then he recognized the house, the house they’d made love in, and she was carrying Tali across the threshold in her car seat, cooing to her about coming home for the first time. Tali was fast asleep when the cameraperson zoomed in on her face, and they sat and watched as she breathed softly, twitching every so often as she dreamed.

The scene changed, and this time Tali was lying on her back, and Tony could tell that Ziva was filming her with her phone, tickling her feet with her free hand. Tali’s face broke into a wide grin and Ziva spoke, her voice explaining, “Today is the first day she has smiled on purpose,” before going back to cooing at their baby.

The next video was a short while later, and Tali was laying on her belly, her head up as she surveyed the room. _She must have learned that one from her mother,_ Tony thought with a smile, and then Tali leaned over to one side and rolled over to her back, and Ziva burst out clapping, cheering for her in Hebrew.

Every time the scene changed, Tony realized, there was another milestone in Tali’s life that he had missed out on. Except he hadn’t, not really, not with Ziva taking the time to film all of them. How had she been able to create this video so lovingly but not reach out and tell him about her? Something wasn’t right, he could _feel_ it.

Tali was sitting in her high chair, and Ziva was feeding her some mushy stuff with a spoon. “First time with solid foods,” came the explanation from Ziva, who must have propped her phone up somehow for filming, and Tony watched with interest as Tali tasted the food and then made a disgusted face, smacking her lips together and narrowing her eyes at her mother in distrust.

Definitely his child.

And then she was doing this curious move, balanced on her hands and knees like she was going to crawl, but just rocking backwards and then forward again. He’d never seen a child do that before, but it was funny, like she was stretching her muscles to get ready for a big crawling race or something.

Ziva’s face came on the screen, a serene smile on her face as she spoke. “She was just rocking yesterday, and now, look!” He could see her reach to tap the screen and change the camera from front facing to normal, and she followed Tali with the phone as she crawled across the room, hands padding noisily on the hardwood floor as she scooted forward, babbling incoherently as she went along.

And then it was morning, Tony could tell by the soft light coming through the window as Ziva walked slowly into Tali’s bedroom, wishing her a good morning in Hebrew and praising her (he assumed) for standing, holding onto the side of the crib for dear life, her legs spread behind her as she struggled to maintain her balance on her feet. That, too, must have been a first.

A pause, followed by Ziva crossing to the sofa where Tali sat, scooping her up into her lap and beginning to read her a story, first in Hebrew, and then translating it into English, pressing a soft kiss into her curls as she turned the page and gasped at the new pictures revealed, to Tali’s delightful giggles. Ziva finished reading the story and put the book aside, reaching for something else, and it took a minute for Tony to recognize the frame as the one that had come along with Tali.

Ziva was showing Tali their picture.

He couldn’t even stop the tear that has been welling up in his eye from rolling down his cheek, and he didn’t even want to. _“Ima,”_ he watched Ziva say, taking Tali’s finger and pointing to her own face, and then _“Abba,”_ repeating the motion. He couldn’t tell if she understood, but this seemed to be a regular ritual for them, and he knew without a doubt that eventually, Tali _would_ know those faces, because she had pointed to them the same way that Ziva had shown her.

Tali was standing with her hands at the edge of the couch, bending her knees a few times and then she started to pad slowly around the edge of the furniture, holding onto it as she stepped, unable to let go and walk on her own yet. After a minute of watching that, the scene shifted and Ziva was standing in the middle of the room, conversing in Hebrew with the friend who had filmed them earlier in the video, and Tali was looking at Ziva with determination as Ziva coaxed her to come. Tali was having none of it, and she turned and buried her face in the cushion of the couch with a giggle, then turned around again, looking at her mother with her big eyes full of wonder.

Ziva took a few steps forward, giving Tali a shorter distance to shoot for, and then Tali turned, leaning her back against the couch, and took one tentative step, then another, and then two more until she crashed into Ziva’s waiting arms. “She is walking!” She said to the camera, and swept Tali up and into a hug, kissing her softly on the cheek. Tali rested her head on her mother’s shoulder and patted her on the back, and Ziva returned a pat of her own.

Tali had patted _him_ on the back tonight, and he hadn’t known that he was supposed to pat her back. He was experiencing these things _now,_ yes, but he had missed so much, and it killed him to think of all the things he would never get to share with his daughter. With Ziva.

Ziva stood in front of the phone after she had placed it down somewhere, and when she walked away and toward Tali, he noted that they were in Ziva’s room. She sat down on the bed with Tali, again holding the framed picture in her hands. “Tali, say _abba. Abba.”_ She spoke deliberately while pointing to his face.

“Ba!” Tali said, and Ziva shook her head.

“Not _ba,_ Tali, _abba._ You point.” Tali balled up her fist aside from one finger and pointed lazily, her hand-eye coordination not quite perfect yet, but Ziva praised her nonetheless. “Yes, Talia! Abba! Say it. _Abba.”_

“ _A-ba,”_ the little girl repeated, and Tony choked down a sob as he watched. He knew that it was her first word, it had to be. Everything on this video was a first. Tali’s first word had been _abba,_ and she had known him from birth.

He continued to watch, unable to keep from crying as he saw Ziva and Tali dancing in the living room, Tali clapping her hands in delight as her favorite songs came on. The way she screeched with delight when her mother snuck up behind her and shouted “Boo,” and the way she laughed as Ziva chased her down the hallway. There was so much _love,_ and Tony wished with all his heart that he hadn’t missed any of it.

“Tony,” Ziva spoke his name for the first time, her face in the camera and her voice hushed. “I will explain everything. I promise. But I must finish this video. I have to go. I wish I could say more, and I am sorry. Please forgive me.” He noted as he watched that she was stuffing items in a bag. “Find me,” she said as she held the framed photograph of himself and Ziva up, looking at the camera pointedly, and started to put it into the bag.

He was about to get up from the bed and examine that photograph immediately, but then Tali was on the screen one last time, pointing at the picture frame, at _his_ face, right in front of him. “Abba,” she said proudly. “Love Abba.” The screen went black, and he buried his head and began to sob, unbidden, for the first time since everything happened. Ziva had never forgotten him, and she’d made damn sure that Tali would know him. She must have wanted to tell him.

He needed answers. He had to know what was going on with Ziva. She’d told him to find her as she’d held up the photograph. Could she really be alive, safe somewhere? She must have known that he would take out Kort and then come to her when it was safe.

The photograph was sitting on top of some dirty clothes on the armchair in his room, and he picked it up, looking at it for a clue. It had been taken in Paris, that much was for sure, because that had been the only time they’d ever ridden on a Vespa together.

Was she trying to tell him she would be waiting for him in Paris? He’d already been planning to go there, but where in the hell would he begin to look for her? It wasn’t exactly a small city. It might take him months to find her.

“You’ve gotta do better than that, Ziva,” he muttered, shaking his head as he set the picture down on the bed. She’d always been cryptic, and in so many ways, it had kept her alive, but now he just wanted to know where she was so he could go to her. Tali would start to miss her pretty soon, and he’d _been_ missing her for the past three years.

He sighed, walking to the bathroom to wash the tears off of his face. He’d never admit to anyone, but he hated crying not because of the perceived weakness of it, but because of how sticky his face felt afterward. Tony turned on the water and looked in the mirror, noting as he did just how much he looked like hell. Like he’d just lost the love of his life.

“I’m my father.” He groaned as he splashed a little water on his face, using a washcloth to wipe the residue of his tears from his cheeks. “Christ, I was _almost_ Gibbs.” He laughed weakly at his reflection in the mirror. He needed a haircut, but it could wait until he found Ziva.

Maybe there was more to that photo than met the eye. He’d taken hundreds of pictures of the scenery there, but it had been Ziva who had asked another patron at the café to take a shot of them on the Vespa, and she’d kept it all this time. He wasn’t sure she’d ever shown it to him, not like the picture he’d taken of her.

Paris was when he knew, for absolute certain, that he had fallen in love with his partner.

Tony picked up the picture again, looking at the frame. There was nothing unusual about the frame, no markings of any kind. He turned the photo over and began to pull the back off of it, hoping that maybe she had written something on the back of the photo. He slid the back of the photo frame out and a small slip of paper slid out and onto the floor. Setting the photo back down on the bed, he crouched down and picked up the slip of paper.

An address. Ziva’s handwriting, her swirly cursive staring at him from the page.

_23 Avenue de la Porte de Châtillon,  
75014 Paris, France. _

He wanted to Google the address, more than anything, but he knew better than to risk it from here. Kort was dead, and Ziva was presumed as much, but if anyone found out that she was alive, Ziva could very easily still have a target on her back. The first person who would be expected to go find her would be him, especially now that he had their daughter.

But he was already planning to go to Paris, to take Tali there, and that had been before he suspected that Ziva was still alive. He couldn’t type in this exact address, but he could search the city of Paris under the guise of setting up travel reservations.

It was nearly midnight, and while he had been tired from this emotional rollercoaster of a day, he couldn’t possibly sleep now if he didn’t follow up on the only lead he had. He walked quietly back out to the living room, picked his laptop up from the coffee table, and carried it to the kitchen, opening it up and setting it down on the counter. He typed “Paris map” into the Google search bar and waited as the map loaded. When it did, he scanned every line on the screen, looking for _Avenue de la Porte de Châtillon,_ but he couldn’t find what he was looking for.

He almost cursed out loud, but despite the fact that Tali was asleep, she was still in the room, and he didn’t want her to hear it, even subconsciously. He bit the inside of his lip and then typed “paris hotels” into the search page. He was still in the map, however, and the listing that came up was a seedy-looking hotel 17 miles from his apartment. He narrowed his eyes at his computer, silently yelling at it for being dumb enough to think that, from a map of the city of Paris, France, he would somehow want to stay in a hotel room in the same county that he lived in.

Tony clicked back to the main Google page and typed in “paris hotels.” A huge list of hotels for the tourist hotspot came up, and he realized that he would have a daunting task ahead of him if he hoped to locate one with this address, but maybe if he scanned through them, one might be on the same street as the place Ziva was leading him to find.

Maybe it would just be easier for him to fly there with Tali and hand that slip of paper to a cab driver, but he wanted to know where she was. _Needed_ to know.

He'd been scrolling for several minutes and his eyes were tired. He was starting to lose any hope that the place Ziva was leading him to was a hotel when he scrolled past something that looked like _Châtillon._ He scrolled back up, his jaw dropping when he realized that it was the exact address Ziva had given him. He clicked on the listing and looked through the information on this hotel.

It was then that he realized that Ziva was staying in the exact same hotel they’d stayed at the only other time they’d been in Paris, and she was likely waiting for him there.

“Forget Israel,” he said under his breath, so as not to wake Tali. He typed in the address to his frequent flier airline, and started to search for flights. “Tali and I are going to Paris.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying this so far.


	3. Anxiously Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva continues to wait in Paris, missing Tali and Tony more with each day that passes.

Ziva was awake at zero four, and she couldn’t get back to sleep.

She’d adjusted the air conditioning in the hotel room, but that hadn’t helped, and she’d gone to the bathroom, but that had apparently signaled to her body that it was time to be up, so that when she lay back down to attempt to sleep again, her legs felt restless and she couldn’t get comfortable.

How had she grown so used to the comfort of another body nearby?

Frustrated, she slid out of the bed, her bare feet landing on the coarse material of the hotel’s shoddy carpeting. Not for the first time, she wondered if _this_ was her punishment for things she’d done wrong in her life, but she shook her head to banish the thought.

She had talked about this with a therapist, after she’d found out she was pregnant. She could not continue to think of life in terms of what she deserved or didn’t deserve. It had been so hard for her to reconcile the killer she’d been with the mother she was becoming, and although she had wanted to be a mother more than _anything,_ she had never been entirely certain that she was worthy of such a gift.

Even now, despite the hours she’d spent in therapy, she sat amazed and blessed by Tali. She was certainly not the only mother who felt awed by what she had.

It had been so hard to find a therapist that she could open up to, but once she had, it had made such a difference. She was the one who had encouraged Ziva to reach out to Tony, to tell him about the baby, despite her misgivings about being ready for that kind of commitment to another person.

 _“Like it or not, Ziva, you are going to have a lifetime commitment already. That is what this child is. You may as well open yourself up to another.”_ Her therapist’s words rang true even now, and she longed for the lifetime commitment of both Tali and Tony. She smiled to think about him. If only she had been able to reach out to him.  

She couldn’t have called him because Mossad was watching her, that much she knew, and being the daughter of the assassinated leader of a government agency would not easily afford her a quiet, private life. She knew that she was being watched, not just by Mossad, but other groups, some of which undoubtedly had ill intentions. But she had given no impression that she intended to return to that life, and she made every show of being nothing but a mother, content to live off of the inheritance her father had left behind.

She may not have agreed with her father’s legacy, but she could certainly use it for something good, like raising Tali.

Her position had continued to be precarious, however, and she hadn’t liked that despite having left it all behind, she’d needed to continue to watch over her shoulder daily, on the off chance that something untoward was happening. After having left NCIS, she had just wanted to live a simple, quiet life. A normal life.

Instead, she’d had to be wary at every turn, making sure that no one was out to harm herself or her daughter. She’d made contact with Orli once, asking why she was being followed, but Orli would not give her any information. _“You are no longer on the list of people who need to know, Ms. David,”_ Orli had said to her, and Ziva had been infuriated, but she couldn’t really blame the woman. After all, part of her job was guarding state secrets, and as an American citizen with ties to an American federal agency, Orli had had every right to keep her in the dark.

Still, Ziva had known that there was something she needed to be aware of, and she’d done her best to keep up on intel as best as she could without arousing suspicion. She had longed to reach out to McGee, who could have cited her as an international intelligence contact and hopefully given her some information. She had longed to reach out to Vance, who might have been able to do the same, or at the very least, given her something cryptic that she could have gone off of.

Most of all, she had longed to reach out to Tony, to tell him that she was pregnant and that she missed him, and that she may have made a mistake by having let him leave her. Again.

But she’d known that if she reached out via telephone, she would have been considered “in contact” with the Americans – which was ridiculous because she _was_ one, and she might have been targeted for that reason alone. Never mind the fact that they were her _friends._ No. Those who would do her harm would have seen her former coworkers and her contact with them as a threat, and she – and her unborn baby – would have been the one to pay the price for it.

She may not have been feeling great about her past, but she certainly didn’t think she deserved to die over it, and she had very much wanted to survive once she’d realized she was pregnant with Tony’s child.

Just as much as she wanted to survive now that she was the _mother_ of Tony’s child. Ziva hugged herself, rubbing her arms absently. _If only it were Tali …_

For similar reasons, she could not have reached out to him via e-mail. Perhaps it had been paranoid of her, but she hadn’t wanted to run the risk that any of her online activities could be tracked. She’d never had any social media before she’d left, and it would have looked suspicious for her to start a social media account so suddenly. _Maybe_ it would have been all right because of Tali, just a new mother eager to share her daughter’s milestones with friends, but she still had not wanted to risk it, and she did not want Tony to find out about their daughter from an Instagram post.

No, that was the sort of thing she had to tell him specifically. Preferably in person, but over the phone or in an e-mail would have sufficed. Unfortunately, she had not had the luxury to do either of those things without compromising herself.

In the end, she had chosen to write him a letter. She had poured her heart onto the page, telling him that she was sorry for pushing him away and inviting him back into her life. That they could be a family – she remembered very distinctly that she had written that. And she had been very careful that she had not been spotted as she slipped the letter into a public mailbox and onto her future, and she’d gone home and waited.

A month came and went, and he had not contacted her. Perhaps it was possible that the letter had gotten lost in the mail. So she had tried again. A second time she wrote, and there had been no response. She’d been left to conclude two things – either that Tony hadn’t wanted anything to do with her, or that her letters had been intercepted by someone who did not want her to contact him.

Even now, she could not ascertain _why,_ seeing as Tony was the father of her child and that would be a perfectly logical reason to reach out to him, but someone, somewhere, did not want him to know.

Still, Ziva had refused to give up hope, and she always knew that there would be a day when one of her letters reached him, and he would come to her. She’d sent eight letters with no response, and by the time she had been nearing her due date, she’d asked a friend to help her film some moments in her life so that Tony would not be entirely left out. He might miss things, but he wouldn’t, not _completely._

Ziva wondered now if Tony had found the DVD she’d made for him, and if he’d cried as much as she had when she’d made it, knowing that she was sending Tali away, at least for a short while.

God, but she _missed_ her. She thought maybe after a few days the ache would dull some, but so far she still felt just as empty as she had the first day without her. Even though she’d kept her own copy of the DVD so that she could watch it whenever she was missing Tali, it wasn’t even remotely the same as being able to physically interact with her baby girl.

Just thinking about the video made her want to watch it again. If this continued, the portable DVD player Tony had gotten hear nearly five years ago would get more use than his own. But it wasn’t like she could have brought her laptop with her, not without it being traced.

She shook her head, smiling as she flipped open the lid to the player. The disc was already inside, and all she had to do was start it from the beginning. She settled in, watching as the memories flooded back to her. She never got past seeing the doctor handing her Tali for the first time before starting to cry, and this morning was no different. Touching the screen with her fingertips when her daughter’s precious smile lit up the screen, Ziva choked back a tortured sob.

_If only it did not have to be like this._

Unfortunately, though, it did, and as she watched her daughter’s milestones in quick succession as she’d had them filmed for Tony, she knew – whether it was a gut feeling, she couldn’t say – that Tali would be all right with Tony. She’d made sure that Tali had known who her father was, from the very beginning. And one day, they would be a family, the three of them.

It was not quite six when she finished watching the video, and she wiped her tears off of her face and slid on her shoes, intent on going out for something to eat. It was still too dark for sunglasses, but she figured if she kept her head down, she could avoid being recognized.

Before she left the room, her eyes caught a glimpse of something pink sticking out of her bag. It was one of Tali’s dresses, one that did not fit her anymore but that Ziva had been loath to give up. Was there something so wrong about being sentimental every once in a while? For all her years of shunning sentimentality, she’d finally come to understand that it was okay to hold onto things – and people – for purely the value of a memory.

Ziva stepped over to her bag and pulled out the dress, holding it close to her cheek. New tears welled up in her eyes as she caressed the material, the only physical piece of her daughter she’d carried with her when she’d fled Israel. Thousands of photos of Tali sat in her cloud storage, which would be accessible when she once again had a phone, but this dress, the DVD she’d made only two copies of, and one printed photograph were the only things she had.

“It is not enough,” she sighed, her shoulders shrugging in defeat. It had to be, but it was not. Tali had been her reason for existence these last two years; Tali had given her purpose. It was strange to think of her life before, in which she was beholden to no one but herself, but Tali had changed that. Tali had changed everything.  

And she knew that she had Tony to thank for that.

She opened the door of her hotel room and stepped outside, practically tiptoeing in the early morning so as not to wake anyone up. Surely some café would be open at this hour, but if not, she could wander around for a little while. She’d gone out every day for meals, but mostly, she’d remained cooped up in the hotel room and the fresh air and walking would do her some good.

As she walked out of the hotel room, she surveyed the street in front of her. Looking first to the right, she noted the place she had eaten her dinner the night before. Ziva was trying to keep a low profile, which meant avoiding eating at the same place too many times. The longer it took Tony to get here with Tali, however, the more likely it would be that she’d have to.

Not for the first time, she wondered if she might have to find a more permanent place to stay. She had plenty of money, but hotel living was not sustainable in the long-term. And if she had to move into an apartment, she’d have to find some way of letting Tony know where he could find her again. Everything hinged on Tony realizing and finding her as soon as possible.

The waiting was absolutely _killing_ her, in so many ways.

It was early, and the streets were still relatively quiet compared to the usual bustle of tourists that milled about the city. Most of the people out and about this early were people who lived here, those who were heading to pick up some bread and a coffee before they would move on to their workplace. Some were elderly, a man paying for a newspaper at a nearby stand, for example, and some were younger, like the man with a child with soft curls.

Her stomach dropped. _There was no way. It couldn’t be … could it?_ The man turned around and her heart sank as she realized that it was not Tony. Of course not. It had been only a week. Still, her heart pounded in her chest and she had a little difficulty catching her breath. She had been so hopeful, and so quickly. Ziva closed her eyes and took a moment to compose herself. _Do not get carried away, but have faith. They will come._

With resumed composure, she walked along the sidewalk, looking for a place she could sit to have something quick to eat. Across the street, she spotted a small café that appeared to be open. She looked for traffic and crossed, intent on discovering what kind of something delicious she could have this morning when she realized.

This was the café that she and Tony had eaten at, the last (only) time they’d been here together. Suddenly the memories came flooding back to her, of sitting across from him and enjoying a croissant while he smiled at her, the way his eyes lit up his face as he teased her for waking up wrapped around him. That had been the start, or at least the shift. From something teasing and overtly sexual to something deeper.

Paris would always have special meaning to them. Tony had even said it when they’d returned, that they would always have Paris. And they would. And soon, so would Tali.

She stepped to the counter to order her breakfast, a croissant, some fruit, and a coffee, and paid, and then gathered her food and walked outside to one of the tables where she could indulge in some people watching, discreetly, of course. It was early and while her guard was still up, she could relax a little. Once she sat down, she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her photograph of Tali. She kept it with her at all times.

Her beautiful girl stared up at her with chubby cheeks and bright eyes, trusting and loving and entirely adoring of her mother. Tali knew how loved she was, how much Ima loved her, but also how much her Abba did, too. Ziva didn’t know how she knew, but somehow, she was absolutely certain that the moment Tony met her, he would adore her, and she had always told Tali that both Ima and Abba loved her very, _very_ much.

Looking at the picture in her hands, her fingers brushing it lightly, she wondered how anyone could _not?_

She sighed, feeling another batch of fresh tears welling up in her eyes. Her heart hadn’t stopped aching since the moment she’d left, but it _had_ to be this way. The only way she could absolutely ensure that Tony would come and find her would be to send him Tali. It was not the way that she wanted him to find out. But at this point, it really was the only way, and it was no use dwelling on regrets if they could have their chance for a future.

“Why must everything be so complicated?” She spoke softly to the photograph, her voice tinged with sadness. She lifted the picture to her lips and brushed lightly, wishing more than anything that she could be kissing Tali for real, and then held her daughter close to her heart.

 _Please come back to me,_ she thought, her mantra over the last several days. _Please._

Tear after tear rolled down her cheek as she sat in the corner of a café and grieved.


	4. Traveling With Toddlers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony braves the airport with Tali, facing many struggles he hadn't anticipated along the way, causing him to miss Ziva even more than he had before.

Tony’s father had been great helping out with Tali, and he couldn’t have been more grateful that he had his dad around to help him. Despite how he felt about his father’s ability to parent, it had been nice to have someone else around, some support.

It was for that reason that Tony felt comfortable enough asking Senior to drive him and Tali to the airport, and the old man had been more than happy to oblige. Tony was glad that he wouldn’t have to pay what would surely be an exorbitant parking fee, and Senior was glad to spend more time with Tali before they left. He’d never had a daughter himself, and little Tali had stolen his heart.

“She’s beautiful,” Senior said to Tony, nodding toward the backseat where Tali sat quietly, wide-eyed and stoic as the city sights rolled by.

“She looks like her mother,” Tony responded, a smile creeping along the corners of his face.

Senior noted his son’s grin and smiled knowingly, and then chuckled in response, glancing at Tali in the rearview mirror. “I agree there, son.”

“Pa-pa drive?” Her small voice spoke up from the backseat as she met her grandfather’s eyes in the mirror.

“That’s right, Tali. Papa’s driving,” Senior cooed. Tony beamed at how well his father was getting along with Tali, and how quickly she’d learned to call him _Papa._

“Go bye-bye?”

“For a little while, Tali,” Tony explained. “We’re going to fly on an airplane. Like you did when you came here. Do you remember the airplane?”

“Ahpane?”

“Yeah, airplane.” He wracked his brain trying to think of the Hebrew word for airplane, but either he had never learned it or it had slipped from his memory. God, he needed Ziva _now_ so that Tali's Hebrew vocabulary wouldn't suffer for very long, and so that his own education in the language could continue. “We’re gonna fly, up in the sky, and go very, very far.”

“Ima?”

Tony hadn’t told his father that he suspected Ziva was alive, and he didn’t want to, on the chance that he was wrong, but he also didn’t want to tell Tali that she was dead, either. Not until he was absolutely _sure._ “Soon, baby,” was all he said, and if Senior thought anything strange about his response, he didn’t say it. They’d both decided that it would take time before they could break it to her, and Senior wasn’t going to say anything about Ziva. That was Tony’s place, and his decision.

Still, Tony had to wonder if she knew what an airplane was, or if she had any concept of it, based on what he’d said to describe it, that would automatically cause her to think of her mother. Had her mother said something similar to her? Did Tali somehow _know_ that they were going back to find Ziva?

If only he could ask her, but having a conversation with a child, not even two, was fairly fruitless. Tony had done some reading last night, and he found that kids Tali’s age had roughly fifty words of vocabulary. Judging by the fact that she seemed to know both Hebrew and English words, he wondered if that would mean she had twenty-five in each, or if she had fifty in both.

Did other parents sit and try to count the words they knew their children knew? Tony had no idea. Maybe he was doing this all wrong. He couldn’t really be sure, and he worried now, more than he ever had in his entire life.

It wasn’t much longer before they were pulling up to the airport, and Tony insisted that his father drop him off rather than paying for parking, even for a short time.

That turned out to be a mistake.

Aside from Tony’s check-in bag, which was a rather large duffel, he had Tali’s check-in bag, two carry-on bags, a stroller, a car seat, and Tali herself. He was happy to put Tali into the stroller a have it checked at the gate, but he still had about seven less hands than he needed.

As he walked rather awkwardly toward the check-in counter, he wondered how in the hell had Ziva done any of this by herself.

He somehow managed to get to the front of the line, where he handed over his two bags and the car seat, which he had to pay extra to check. Apparently, it was only _one_ check-in item now. He rolled his eyes, but thirty bucks to not have to lug that huge thing around two airports would be well worth it.

Then came the security checkpoint.

He had to take his laptop, his portable DVD player, and his digital camera out of his bag. Then take his keys and change out of his pockets. Then place them in the bin. Shove the bag down the line. Take all of Tali’s liquids (less than 3oz., of course) out of _her_ bag, stick those in the bin, and shove the bag down the line. Shoes off, in another bin. Unstrap Tali from the stroller, close that thing up, and put it on the conveyor belt, as well.

And then Tali was supposed to walk through the metal detector. “Scared, Abba!” she screeched, recoiling from the round tube that would take her picture, and he couldn’t blame her in the slightest. To a two-year-old, the thing probably looked like aliens were coming to abduct her.

The TSA people were less than helpful, and the people behind them were less than forgiving. “I’m right behind you, Tali. It’s okay,” he coaxed, but she stood firm, her knees locked and her face set into a deep frown.

“NO!” She screamed so forcefully that even Tony was surprised. He’d been a father for four days now, and he was wholly unprepared to deal with a tantrum, especially not for the first time in the middle of airport security.

“Is there something I can do?” He asked the TSA agent for some sort of accommodation, _anything._ “Can’t I walk her through?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but these are the regulations.” The agent didn’t sound sorry to him at all. He sighed, swallowing down the urge to say something inappropriate.

It was only then that he began to miss having the badge.

“Fine.” He sighed again, crouching down to Tali’s level. At least the agent was letting some of the people behind him go around them. “Tali, we have to go through the tube thing. That’s what you’re scared of, right?” He pointed at it and she nodded, wiping her eye in frustration. “Okay. Here’s what Abba’s gonna do. Abba’s gonna go through first, and show you that it’s okay. Then when Abba goes through, then you can. Can you do that? Can you be a big girl?”

She choked on a small sob, nodding slightly. “Big girl,” she said, her voice small, and he could tell that she was still terrified. Maybe, though, if he went through first then he could coax her to come to him, and everything would be all right.

 _Ziva would probably be so much better at this_ , he thought. But Ziva was not here.

“Okay Tali, I’m going to go through. Watch Abba.” Tony made a big show of walking into the tube, raising his hands in the air for the x-ray, and then walking out of it, his eyes never leaving Tali’s the entire time. “See?” he said from the other side. “All done.”

Tali looked at her father, still afraid, but calmer now, as though seeing him conquer the scary thing first made it somehow less scary. Had he really soothed her fears, and all by himself, without Ziva? “Abba, I go?”

“Yes, Tali, you go. Abba is right here.” Tali slowly walked to the tube, examining it up close before stepping inside. Then, mimicking her father, she raised her hands in the air, almost as though she were celebrating some triumph rather than being screened through security. Once the x-ray machine was finished. Tony reached in – despite the TSA agent’s glare – and took her hand, gathering her into a hug. “Good job, Tali! Abba is so proud of you. You’re a big girl!”

Tali reached around and gave Tony a small pat on the back, and he remembered from the DVD that Ziva had given him that he was supposed to pat her back, too. When he did, she squealed with delight. “Abba pat!”

Tears welled up in his eyes at the way she seemed to light up with joy, as he repeated her words. “Abba pat, Tali, yes. Abba pat.” Finally, everything was okay again and he was able to gather their belongings so they could head toward their gate. He would have to find them a bathroom first, because there was no way that Tali’s diaper would last the entire seven hours of the flight, longer if he counted boarding time.

He strapped Tali back into her stroller and put all of the things he’d taken out of the bags and pockets back into their respective places, and then put Tali’s shoes on. “You didn’t have to take her shoes off, ya know,” a different TSA agent huffed at him impatiently, annoyed with how much time he’d taken for the screening process. Tony narrowed his eyes at her but said nothing, opting not to explain himself or his family situation to this woman.

 _“Fucking TSA,”_ he thought to himself. He’d been on the world’s largest emotional roller coaster in the last few days, and he’d be _damned_ if some lady with attitude was going to get pissy with him for caring for his toddler.

The next stop was the restroom, and he rolled Tali into the men’s room without really thinking about it, until he realized that the men’s room, for some unfathomable reason, didn’t have any changing tables. It had never mattered to Tony until this moment, and then he was cursing inwardly and wheeling her back out of the bathroom.

Stumped, he stood for a moment and surveyed the concourse, looking for some solution to his problem, when he noticed the family restroom a few gates down. The family restrooms were something he had never really paid any attention to before now. Perhaps the family restroom was the solution to having no changing tables in the men’s room, but it was a piss-poor one, and Tony was already aggravated with how many ridiculous challenges he’d faced before even getting Tali on the goddamn plane.

And maybe he’d be less frustrated if he’d not just been _thrust_ into the role of father a few days ago. He absolutely adored Tali, she’d stolen his heart from the minute he laid eyes on her, but he was still angry at Ziva for not having told him. When he had thought she was dead, he had chosen not to dwell on it, because it wouldn’t even matter and there was no use being angry at a ghost, but now that he was almost completely certain she was alive, he felt justified in being upset.

He just wanted to know _why._ He didn’t buy Orli’s explanation, or lack thereof. Orli didn’t _know_ Ziva, and she certainly couldn’t purport to speak for her. The only person he would trust _less_ than Orli to know anything about Ziva’s state of mind would have been her father, if he were still alive, and therefore, Orli was at the top of his Do Not Trust (Ever) list.

Trent Kort had been on it too, at least, up until he’d killed him.

But still, he just needed to know what her reasoning was. He hadn’t lied when he had said that he’d have jumped on the first plane out as soon as he’d known she was pregnant. He desperately missed everything that she had experienced. He wanted to be there when they had the ultrasound, and when the baby kicked for the first time. He wanted to drive her to the delivery room and hold her hand while she brought their child into the world. He wanted to take her and their baby home and shower her with love and adoration and everything that goes with being a new parent.

He wanted them to be a _family._ Why, then, weren’t they?

Again Tony sighed as he tugged on the door to the family restroom and found it locked. He rolled his eyes at the inconvenience, but he’d just have to wait it out. He crouched down to Tali’s level, just wanting to interact with her in any way he could. She was still so new to him, and despite the fact that her pure heart had instantly trusted him just because she knew him as Abba, he felt as though he needed to win her regardless.

“We’re waiting for the bathroom, Tali. Then I can change your diaper.”

Tali didn’t respond right away, but scrunched up her face. Tony made a face back, and Tali’s scrunched up expression gave way to a smile, followed by peals of laughter. “Then we’re going to go on an airplane.”

“Ahpane?” It was clear to Tony that she had no idea what he was talking about, but he’d point out the airplanes to her after they got out of the bathroom.

“Yeah, Tali. Let’s just hope these people hurry up. I’m hungry, aren’t you?”

“I poop,” she announced, changing the subject, and Tony laughed again, reminded of how futile it was to have a conversation with someone her age. Last week, if someone had told him that he would be crouched down in an airport with a toddler that was his and Ziva’s talking about _poop,_ he would have had that person committed, and _Yet,_ he thought,  _here I am._

They’d been waiting outside the family restroom now for exactly twelve minutes, and he was getting impatient. How long did it take for _one_ family to use the bathroom? Was a family of fifteen in there? He knocked on the door four times, loudly enough to ensure that they heard him, but not in the way he would have as a federal agent. Maybe he _should_ yell, “Federal Agent!” and see if that got them out of the bathroom faster. There was an idea.

There was no response from beyond the door, so he waited another two minutes and knocked again, more insistently this time. Finally, he heard the door unlock and two young people came out, probably college-aged, looking rumpled and rather proud of themselves. “Oh, real cute,” he growled, rolling his eye at them. They didn’t even have the grace to look guilty. “I have a toddler who’s been sitting in her own crap and there aren’t any changing tables in the men’s rooms while you two are preemptively trying to join the mile-high club.”

Honestly, if he’d still been an NCIS agent, he might have considered arresting them. He could very easily get them on public lewdness, at _least_. “Sorry, bro,” the guy said with a smirk, and Tony resisted every impulse he had, just to keep from punching his smug face.

And he thought _Ziva_ was the one with violent tendencies. Maybe it just took having a child to bring them out of him.

He wheeled Tali’s stroller into the restroom and locked the door behind him. Thanks to the two people before him, he was more than a little concerned about where he would change Tali’s diaper. He wasn’t sure which surfaces were clean enough to touch. Disgusting.

The changing table was the fold-up sort, though, and that seemed reasonably safe. He took care of the diaper issue, finding that he was already somewhat used to the poop thing. That had happened a lot quicker than expected, too, but now it was just a part of life.

“There you go, Tali, all clean!” He picked her up off of the table and sat her back down in the stroller. He should use the restroom, too, and he realized that any time he went to the restroom over the next several hours, due to the nature of air travel, Tali would have to be there with him.

“Yeah, that’s not super awkward or anything,” he muttered to himself. He didn’t have a choice though, and he strapped Tali back into her stroller and slid into the stall – thank god there was actually a stall and it wasn’t wide open – and took care of his business. Once he washed his hands, they were _finally_ ready to go, and it was time to get something to eat before they got to their gate. Their flight wasn’t boarding for another hour, and he really needed a little bit of time to relax, though he was certain that feeding Tali was going to be another ordeal.

He was _exhausted._

Finding something to eat, sitting down, and getting both himself and Tali fed took almost the entire time they had left before their plane would begin boarding, and as a parent with a small child, he would be able to board early. He waited for the attendants to start their spiel and when he heard the invitation for parents with small children, he picked up all of their belongings and wheeled Tali over, handing over their boarding passes.

When he got to the end of the jetway, he pulled Tali out of the stroller and folded it up, accepting the gate-check ticket from the attendant. “Thanks man,” he said as he stepped on board, carrying Tali on his hip, and she echoed what he said.

“Fangs mah!” Sort of.

They finally got to their seats and Tony sat Tali down, buckling her in. She looked so small in that airplane seat by herself, but he could not do a trans-Atlantic flight with her on his lap the entire time, plus, they needed the additional bag checks. It would be worth the money. He’d made sure that their seats were the only two in the row, and he was grateful to have this space just to themselves.

He stowed his bag in the overhead bin, and Tali’s bag under the seat in front of him, and then he sat down, too, deciding on a whim to film Tali on the plane, so he could show Ziva when they finally found her. Return the favor. “We’re on an airplane, Tali!”

“Ahpane!” she repeated. Tony reached into the pouch from the seat in front of him and pulled out the in-flight magazine and pointed to the picture of an airplane on the cover.

“Look, this is an airplane. We’re on an airplane. Airplanes fly.” He spoke animatedly, something he also hadn’t known he was capable of until he met Tali.

“Fie!” At this point, Tony wasn’t sure if she was retaining these words or just repeating what he was saying, but he supposed it didn’t matter. There was a lot of benefit to merely exposing her to as much language as possible, and that’s what he intended to do.

“That’s right! Fly! Good job! And we’re going to Paris. Paris is in France. France is another country, like Israel.” Tali didn’t respond, and he was pretty sure he had lost her with all of that information. “Israel is where Tali was born. And Ima.”

“Ima!” Tali reached out her hands, as though if she just held them out long enough, Ima would materialize and come and get her. Abba was great, of course, but he was no Ima. He’d never measured up when compared to Ziva, but this time, he was absolutely willing to concede defeat. Tali needed her Ima.

“Yes, we are going to see Ima.”

“Love Ima,” she said with a pout, and Tony could tell that she was on the verge of tears.

“I love Ima too,” he said, reaching in to tickle her cheek so that he could make her laugh again. “And you know who else I love?” He didn’t wait more than a second for her to respond before speaking again, attacking Tali’s neck with tickles as he said, “I love Tali!”

“Love Abba,” she said back, through her giggles, and it took all of Tony’s composure not to break down into tears right there on the airplane, the other passengers be damned.

Despite Tali giggling and squirming in her seat, she yawned rather conspicuously and Tony hoped that she might sleep for most of the flight. “Where Ima?” She asked sleepily, and since he no longer had to play up the charade that she was dead, Tony answered honestly this time.

“We’re going to see Ima. Sleep, Tali. When you wake up we will go and find Ima.” She didn’t seem to understand fully, but the fact that Tony was speaking so soothingly about Ziva would have to be enough. If nothing else, she seemed calmer, and she leaned her head against the window. Tony reached up to the overhead bin and pulled down a pillow, lifting Tali’s head up slightly to place it underneath, and then grabbed a blanket to cover her with.

“Kalev?” she asked, and Tony could have kicked himself. Of course she wouldn’t sleep without her doggy. He reached for her bag and pulled it out, handing it to her and watching as she grabbed it, holding it tightly and closing her eyes.

She didn’t fall asleep, not right away, and her eyes opened lazily for a moment when Tony brushed a piece of her hair off her face. “Good night, Tali,” he said softly, running his hand softly through her hair. When she closed her eyes again, he stopped recording the video and sat back in his seat, his heart swelling as he looked over at his baby girl.

“We’ll find Ima soon,” he said softly, more for his own reassurance than anything else. He hoped that they would, and that she really was alive, and that he hadn’t been lying to his baby this whole time.

“Please still be there waiting for us, Ziva,” he prayed, closing his eyes as the flight attendant began her speech at the front of the plane.


	5. Holding on Tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva begins to lose hope of ever seeing Tali again, and Tony's anxiety increases the closer he gets to finding her.

_"Ima!" Tali's screams seemed to be coming from further and further away, but Ziva couldn't seem to make sense of where she was. She'd turn around, hoping that Tali was behind her, but then she would hear her screaming from somewhere else, as though everything had an eerie echo quality to it._

_The flames were shooting higher and higher as she continued to walk through what remained of her father's house, her hands lightly tracing the walls just to remain steady through the ever-darkening smoke and flames, the heat scorching her face and the tears she cried evaporating as soon as they were shed._

_"Tali!" She cried, but all she could hear was the whipping of the flames around her, as though they were bound to consume her and everything she cared for. The smoke detector in the house was on a rampage, screaming like the pounding of her heart and the cries of her little girl._

_Why could she not find Tali?_

_"IIII-MA!" She heard from behind her, but when she turned around Tali was not there._

_"Tali? Where are you?" She was coughing now, unable to stop. Her voice was scratchy and she knew it would be only a matter of time before she lost consciousness, lost Tali._ No! _She thought to herself, panic rising as high as the smoke billowing into the sky. Tali was still crying, screaming for her, and Ziva couldn't get to her, no matter how hard she tried._

_"I'm coming Tali, just hang on!" She choked out, her voice weakening with every word. God, she was so thirsty, but she had … to … reach … Tali …_

Ziva sat up in a panic, her body covered with sweat and her breathing uneven. It had been years since the last time she had had a nightmare, and the momentary disorientation she felt as she sat up and adjusted to the darkness took her back to the time when frequent nightmares were the norm.

Scrunching her fingers into the bedsheet and taking a deep breath, Ziva forced herself to concentrate on her breathing. The echoes of her daughter's screams still reverberated throughout her mind, however, and her grip on the sheet tightened as she gritted her teeth.

"Breathe," she reminded herself, counting to five on the inhale, and back to five on the exhale. She did this several more times, focusing on the rise and the fall of her chest, and by the time she got to her sixth exhale she had loosened her grip on the bedsheets and her heart rate had slowed considerably.

She refused to even acknowledge what time it was. Ever since she'd gotten here, her sleep had been fitful and restless, but this was the first time she'd had a nightmare.

Reaching to turn the bedside lamp on, she squinted at the brightness until her eyes could adjust. Ziva sighed, standing up and padding to her bag, where the book she'd bought yesterday sat, still unopened. Whatever time it was, it was still dark and no time to head out. Maybe if she could distract herself with a new novel – one she'd been wanting to read for a while – she could eventually fall back asleep, at least for a few more hours.

She was certain she hadn't slept more than a few hours already.

Once she opened the book and began to read, she was immediately reminded of Tali. The opening scene of the book featured a girl about her age, who was described as "chubby-cheeked and curly haired." Ziva closed the book and tossed it to the side of her bed, burying her head in her hands.

So much for a distraction.

She got back out of the bed and walked over to yesterday's jeans, pulling out the photograph she had of Tali. Deep brown eyes stared back at her and Ziva's own eyes welled up with tears. "How much longer am I to wait?" She spoke through her tears, finally breaking down after days of suffering with silent sobs.

The nightmare had passed, but she was still able to hear the tortured sound of her daughter's screams. Even looking at her smiling picture, knowing – well, assuming – that she was safe with Tony, Ziva still couldn't shake the sound of her daughter's tears and the way she'd fought to get to her but simply _couldn't._

And that was the problem. "I am powerless. I can do nothing right now." Her voice was laced with bitterness, but she knew that there was absolutely nothing she could do but wait for Tony to arrive.

But what if he did not? What if he was already settling in with Tali? Maybe he had rented a new apartment, one with a second bedroom, and he was getting everything moved over and learning to live as a single father? Accepting that she was dead?

What if the signs she had given him were not enough?

"No. I have told him to find me in the video. He _will_ find me." _Would he?_ "Shut up," she told the negative voice in her head. Tony would look at all of the evidence and realize that she was still alive. That was what he _did._ He'd been a skilled investigator for at least a decade and a half, and a cop for several years before that. He would know.

Somehow, she _knew_ he would know. This was _Tony._ Everything she had done, every plan she had made, hinged on Tony being the exact investigator she had always known him to be.

The doubtful voice in her mind was getting stronger, though, and with each day that passed, she began to lose a little more hope. She'd watched the video so many times that she had it memorized, and despite being able to hear Tali's voice in her ears, the once-familiar feel of her soft skin was becoming less and less concrete and more abstract.

 _I cannot forget,_ she reminded herself, willing her mind to be strong and her memories to remain tangible. The photo and video – mere echoes of Tali – were increasingly further from being enough to sustain her. She _needed_ to see Tali again. Soon.

She just hoped that _soon_ would happen.

* * *

Paris was different than he remembered it, but it had been a few years since the last time he'd been here, and everything was different with a child in tow.

The flight had been fairly uneventful. Tali had slept the entire flight, and so Tony did not have to worry about fitting the both of them into a tiny airplane bathroom for a diaper change, which was a small miracle. He'd handled that once they'd left the plane, and he found that Europe – or at least Paris – was much more accommodating to fathers who needed to change a diaper.

Now it was afternoon and he was in the back of a taxi, sitting beside Tali in her car seat. They'd both slept, and he'd changed Tali's clothes, but he hadn't changed, and he desperately wanted a shower.

And Ziva.

The driver was silent throughout the ride, which he was grateful for, considering his French was still poor. He knew a few phrases, of course, but not enough to hold any sort of conversation. He was much more concerned with keeping Tali occupied anyway, and he chattered with her from the moment they'd gotten settled in the cab.

"We are here," the driver suddenly said in a thick French accent, and Tony supposed that he wasn't surprised that the man could tell he was American. Tony looked outside, surveying the front of the building, remembering walking through that same door behind Ziva so many years ago.

" _Merci,"_ Tony said, for the least he could do was thank the guy in French, and handed over the proper amount of Euro for the drive. He worked to get Tali out of her car seat, and gathered her stroller, deciding that although she could walk perfectly well, he just needed to have her occupied in the stroller so he could manage all of the other things he'd have to carry as he walked into the hotel.

His heart pounded with anticipation once he finally had gathered their things and opened the door. _This was it. She was here._ He could feel that she was here. Something about this place just screamed to him that she was nearby, like he had a homing beacon that led him straight to her. He couldn't explain it.

He walked up to the desk and the clerk smiled at him warmly, as though she recognized him. _"Bonjour. Monsieur Ranier?"_

How did she know that name? They'd only used that alias one other time, and Ziva was taking a massive risk in assuming that he would recognize it. _"Oui?"_ Tony spoke, uncertainty in his voice.

"I am sorry, _Monsieur,"_ she began, switching to English and obviously noting his confusion."I recognize your daughter from a photograph. Your wife has been waiting for you."

Tony was surprised at this development. It shouldn't have surprised him that Ziva had rented the room under an assumed name, and that he'd use a name that he might remember. The fact that they were in Paris and it was a French name she had used was particularly clever. Of all the undercover aliases they'd used, she'd chosen this one. Even more clever was the fact that the Raniers had been Canadian, which would explain his own lack of French.  _Smart, Ziva._

"You just sign here, _s'il vous plait,_ and I will get you the spare room key," the woman continued. If she noticed Tony's stunned silence, she was discreet enough not to mention it to him. Tony took the pen from her and scribbled something resembling a signature, hoping that what he wrote would pass for Jean-Paul Ranier somehow.

He was lucky she hadn't asked for identification, come to think of it.

Tali had been quiet throughout this whole exchange, which was probably just as well, because he was anxious to get upstairs and see Ziva. She was _waiting_ for him. He almost couldn't believe it. He took the key from the desk clerk and noted the room number before proceeding to the elevator at the end of the hall. "Okay Tali," he finally said, leaning down while he waited for the elevator to reach their floor, "We're gonna see Ima!"

"Ima!" Tali repeated excitedly, and the way she said it, so hopeful, was enough to make him want to cry, or jump for joy, or both simultaneously, and as the elevator doors opened up and he rolled her inside, lugging everything along behind him, he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

By the time they finally got outside the door of the room, Tony figured that, despite having been given the key to his room, it would be better for him to knock on the door and wait for her to answer. Ziva and surprises didn't often mix, and although he was certain she was not sitting with a gun trained at the door, he really didn't want to startle her.

But after the third series of knocks, there was still no answer, and he started to get anxious. Maybe she was in the shower, or she'd gone out? He almost dreaded opening the door, as though something garish would be waiting for him on the other side. What if they'd come all this way only to find her dead? What if he had to shield his daughter from the sight of her mother's body, lying in a pool of her own blood? How on earth would he even begin to deal with _that_ reality?

All of these scenarios running through his mind kept him from opening the door, but he knew that if he wanted to find any answers, he would need to go inside, and if she wasn't already in the room, he could wait there for her.

She'd certainly been doing her fair share of waiting, after all.

He slid the key into the lock and turned, testing the door and finding that it opened into the room. Tali was pushed into the room first in her stroller, followed by Tony, and then he reached behind him and grabbed the car seat and their bags, which he'd dropped only long enough to knock on the door.

Ziva was definitely still staying here, and she was definitely _not_ dead. Or if she was, she wasn't dead here.

The place smelled fresh, as though someone had just recently showered, and some of Ziva's belongings were folded neatly on the chair in the corner of the room. Tony silently set the car seat down just inside the door and set their large bags down on the dresser next to Ziva's. Finally, he unstrapped Tali from her stroller so she could run around and play. He reached into her large bag for some of her toys and got them out, letting her decide what she wanted to play with.

"Where Ima?" Of _course_ she would ask that.

"I don't know," Tony said honestly, and he couldn't even blame Tali when her face scrunched up and she began to cry, because if he was being honest, he kind of wanted to do the same thing. "C'mere," he said, pulling her up and into a hug, comforting her in the best way he could, and stealing some of the comfort she could give in return.

He wasn't sure how long they sat that way, only that he kept rubbing Tali's back and offering words of comfort, promising that Ima would be there soon …

But when was soon?

* * *

The walk had done her a lot of good, and Ziva felt refreshed when she finally walked back into the hotel building, having eaten a hearty meal and taken a brisk walk for several minutes. Worry still plagued her mind, but the exercise really helped, and it didn't seem as though she was being followed in the slightest, so she decided she would go for another walk tomorrow.

" _Bonjour, Anton,"_ she spoke to the afternoon desk clerk. "Has my husband arrived yet?"

" _Je ne sais pas,"_ he replied cordially. "I have just come on shift. I do not think so, _Madame Renier."_ Her face fell slightly. She had asked every time she returned from an outing, and every time, she lost a little more hope that he would arrive soon.

"Oh," she said softly, trying not to let her disappointment show. How strange she must look, a woman in the twenty-first century who didn't know when her husband was arriving with her child. She was grateful for the hotel staff's discretion. _"Merci beaucoup,"_ she said regardless, although she really didn't have any reason to be thanking him.

When she was out of his line of sight, her shoulders sank, and her smile faded. _I do not know why I continue to get my hopes up,_ she thought to herself, wiping a stray tear that was threatening to fall as she pressed the button to signal to the elevator that she needed it. It opened immediately, and she stepped inside, leaning against the wall with a heavy heart.

"Please, Tony, I need you to find me," she begged, as though somehow he might hear her voice across the thousands of miles that separated them. She had never felt so desperate before, but her heart was breaking more with every second that passed. She missed Tali so much, it was like a hole was growing inside of her, swallowing her from the inside, as though the void itself was eating away at her soul.

When she arrived on her floor she wasted no time heading back to her room, intent on trying to read again, with a different book this time, one she'd just picked up from a local shop. She hadn't read in French in years, but it would be good for her mind and she desperately needed the distraction.

Ziva slid the key in the lock and pushed the door forward, her eyes trained to the floor. Tony, in the corner, lifted his head as he saw her, but he made no move, knowing that she had not seen him immediately. When she finally lifted her gaze and laid eyes upon him, sitting on the chair with Tali wrapped up in his arms, her heart leapt in her chest. "Tali!" she cried, new tears springing to her eyes at the sight of her daughter.

Tali lifted her head in the direction of her mother and jumped off of Tony, yelling "Ima!" as she ran toward her. Ziva sank to her knees and welcomed her daughter into her arms, sobbing with relief as she pulled her close and held her tightly, her sorrowful tears finally turned to those of joy.

Tony stood apart, waiting silently for this moment between mother and daughter, watching Ziva for the first time as a mother, at least in person. The DVD had not prepared him for how much of a _mom_ she really was, and how utterly perfect she was with Tali. The bond they shared was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, and he couldn't stop his own tears from falling, his own relief welling up inside him.

"Oh Tali, oh … I have missed you," she breathed into her daughter's hair, still unwilling to let her go, though Tali didn't seem too keen on moving yet, either.

"Love Ima," she said softly, and Ziva choked on a sob as she replied that she loved Tali, too. They'd all been through such an ordeal, and Ziva was content to comfort Tali as long as she needed to.

Tony caught her eye from across the room and she blinked at him once, a long, slow blink, as if to say, _"Thank you for bringing her back to me."_ He merely nodded, his gaze unwavering as he watched the two of them together. They had much to discuss, but not now. Not in this moment, with Ziva and Tali reunited, a tangle of limbs and tears as they clung to each other.

For now, however, he could make believe that this was his family, and they were _whole._


	6. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva deal with the fact that the first time they've seen each other in nearly three years also carries the complication of their child and all of the secrets between them.

 

Once Tali was willing to let her mother go long enough, the three of them were able to spend some time together. Neither Tony nor Ziva wanted to talk about anything heavy in front of her, and Tali was completely oblivious to the tension between the two of them, despite walking down the street with one hand in Abba's and the other in Ima's.

One would assume, just from looking at them, that they were the perfect family, out for a stroll along the streets of Paris.

Despite the awkwardness between them, both Tony and Ziva were of the same mindset when it came to Tali – give her as little to stress about as possible.

So they'd gone to dinner, and most of the conversation involved one of the adults saying something to Tali, but not really speaking to each other, until Tony remembered that he'd filmed Tali on the airplane and handed Ziva his phone so she could watch it. He handed the phone to her awkwardly, mumbling something about wanting to return the favor, and she smiled bashfully at the sentiment.

It was the first time, since he'd seen her, that she'd smiled directly at _him,_ and his stomach felt suddenly full of little fluttery things.

It was only when she got toward the end of the video did Tony remember what he'd said about Ziva. Specifically, his feelings for her. To her credit, however, Ziva didn't say anything in response to that. She had eased some of the awkwardness by saying nothing, but he still felt like a nerd when she handed the phone back to him, thanking him for taking care of Tali.

"Of course," Tony said, like it was the most obvious solution. Why wouldn't he have? Ziva said nothing, and they continued the rest of the meal without speaking to each other, only Tali.

By the time they got back to the hotel room and it was time to put Tali to bed, Tony was beginning to feel like an outsider peering into the windows of a very exclusive club. He supposed it was to be expected, after all, Tali had had nearly two years to get to know her mother, but it still hurt that he was forgotten already. _Maybe after she got used to having her mother again,_ he thought, _then she will remember that I'm here._

When Ziva set Tali down on one of the beds and tucked her in, Tali looked up and asked, "Ima kisses?" Tony wished that his little girl was asking for _him,_ but he couldn't do anything to change her feelings toward her mother, nor would he want to. He simply ached for all the time he hadn't had, and he silently wondered why.

After Ziva had finished giving kisses, Tali noticed Tony standing on the other side of the room and frowned, saying, "Abba go?" Tony's heart sank. She thought he would _leave?_

"No, Tali, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," he said, his gaze shifting from his daughter over to Ziva. They still needed to talk, but he wanted her to know that he was in this. Completely.

"Abba kisses?"

He made a great big show of acting like he was still trying to decide if he wanted to give her kisses, which earned him a sleepy giggle from Tali. "Well ..." he said, drawing it out as long as he could, "I _guess,"_ he finished, leaning down and giving her kisses on both cheeks, and one on the forehead, for good measure.

"Sleep tight, Tali." He finished pulling the blanket up and over her, glad to be the parent who got to tuck her in, even if it was childish to be counting such things.

"Night night," she said with a yawn, clutching Kalev tightly as she rolled over to one side.

"She loves you," Ziva said softly, not wanting to keep Tali from falling asleep. It was hardly a surprise, given how much she'd told Tali about her father, but seeing the way the two of them interacted was something special that made her feel … she didn't know, exactly, but it was powerful and it made her want things.

"I have you to thank for that," Tony said quietly. "I didn't know if she would know me. When I first met her, that is."

She furrowed her brow, confused. Tony, the man who had chased her across the world, _twice._ Who had risked his life and his career time and again for her. Who had told her he would fight for her in an orange grove under the October sky. "You doubted me?"

"Could you blame me?" She was taken aback by his words, but he was not wrong, and she knew that if she'd been in his shoes, it might have been difficult to have faith.

"I guess not."

Ziva was still sitting at the edge of the bed Tali was sleeping in, and Tony opted not to sit beside her, instead crossing to sit on the other bed facing her. He didn't think too hard about the fact that this was the one Ziva had apparently been sleeping in, judging by its unmade state. All that was just a distraction for the reality of the situation: they needed to talk, but he didn't know where to begin, exactly.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, getting her attention. She looked at him, sensing what was likely to come. "Okay … so," he started, then stopped again. This was harder than he had thought it would be.

"So," she replied, her shoulders heaving as she took a deep breath. She had been dreading this moment, this time when they would finally have to talk, and everything would come out. She knew that all she could offer him was the truth, and it was entirely up to Tony whether or not he would accept it. He certainly didn't seem to want to leave, and he'd at least promised Tali that he would be staying. And lord knew, Tali needed to regain some semblance of parental stability.

"Start explaining, because there's a lot I don't understand." He sounded harsher than he had intended to, and he could see Ziva lean back slightly, as though a few additional inches of space between them would make this any easier.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe with why you didn't tell me you were pregnant? Or how about the fact that you weren't on birth control like I thought you were, so I didn't even know that pregnancy was even going to be a possibility. Or how about the whole part where you were pretending to be dead?" He was really trying not to lose his cool or raise his voice, especially with Tali sleeping, but he found that he was unable to really contain the anger he was feeling toward her.

Ziva closed her eyes against the onslaught – entirely deserved, if she was being honest – but Tony's anger washed over her like a tidal wave, each word he uttered hitting her like a blow to her skin, digging into what remained of her strength. She desperately hoped that once she explained herself and let him know what the circumstances had been, he would understand.

After all this time, she still loved him, and she still wanted him to be in their lives, on more than a superficial "visiting dad" level. She sighed, taking a moment to pray for his forgiveness.

"Well I will start at the beginning, then. When you left …" she swallowed, needing another moment to compose her thoughts, and Tony watched her silently, encouraging her to speak. She had opened up to him on many other occasions, and this should be no different, except it _was._ "When you left," she repeated, "I knew immediately that I had made a mistake. I _was_ simply going to settle my father's estate and deal with all of the legalities of it, and then come back to DC. It should have taken a month, maybe two, and then we could try again.

"But then two things happened. The first was that I learned of a threat against me. I found myself in a situation where my status as an American citizen on Israeli soil – despite being Jewish and having every right to live there – was undesirable. I learned that there was a significant amount of animosity toward me for being Eli David's daughter and having 'defected,' as they put it, and for being the reason he had been killed, since he would not have been at such risk if he had not been outside the country in the first place, visiting with his only living child. Me." She took a breath, pursing her lips together.

"The second thing that happened was that I found out that I was pregnant, and the first thing I did after _that,_ was somehow convince myself that I was not worthy of motherhood."

"Ziva…" he didn't have the words to continue, but he needed her to know that if _anyone_ had been worthy, it was Ziva. She'd worked so hard to overcome her past. She deserved this bit of happiness. He wasn't ready to ask her about that yet, though. "Back up. Weren't you on birth control?"

"I should have been, and I had been on the depo shot for so long, but I must have forgotten when I dropped everything to go to Israel. I guess was I was just so preoccupied with–"

"Hating yourself," he interrupted, and Ziva glared at him. It stung, coming from someone else. Especially him.

"That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" She didn't say anything, but they both knew that he was right, as she _had_ hated herself then, so much that she'd pushed him away. Still, she pressed her lips together, swallowing a lump that had been forming in her throat. There was so much more that she still had to tell him, to make him understand.

"Please do not go there, Tony, not after everything I have been through to get to this point. When I first found out I was pregnant, I started to see a therapist." It was the first time she had spoken to anyone outside of her therapist about her mental state, and she felt both exposed but relieved, now that she'd unburdened herself with yet another secret.

"You did?" Tony remembered how difficult it had been to get her to seek therapy after Somalia, so hearing her admit now that she'd gone of her own free will was something. She'd finally accepted that she didn't have to do everything on her own. He was proud of her. He smiled just enough, to encourage her to continue speaking.

"Yes. Because I was, first of all, scared, but I was also unsure what I should do. I was convinced that I was – like I said – not worthy of being a mother, and as much as I wanted to be – more than anything – I needed help to see that I could be."

"I wanted you to come home so badly," he whispered, tears shining at the edges of his eyes.

"I know, Tony. I know. But I was dealing with all these issues. After you left and I found out I was pregnant, I really had convinced myself that I would be the worst possible mother, especially if I could not even keep myself safe. I reached out to some contacts, but I found that they were less than helpful – I was no longer in any position to benefit them, as I was no longer Mossad or NCIS." She paused again, taking a moment to push a strand of hair behind her ear.

"The first time I picked up the phone to call you, at the urging of my therapist, I heard several unusual noises which led me to realize that my phone line was not secure. I realized that, despite my struggle with becoming a mother, I could not jeopardize any of it, and I chose to lay low. I still did not know the nature of the threat, only that one existed. I could not reach out for intel, and it seemed that even reaching out for the comfort of a friend – or … _you_ – could wind me in danger. I was very paranoid." _Rightfully so,_ Tony thought, as he listened to her story.

"I do not know to what extent the threat was in my own mind, manifested out of a fierce maternal need to protect my child, or to what extent it actually existed. But I was afraid. Now, based on the fact that my farmhouse is a smoldering pile of ruin, I know that the threat was _not_ all in my head, and my instincts kicked in just in time to get myself and Tali to safety."

"How did you know to get yourself out?" He hadn't meant to interrupt, but he had to know.

"Tali and I used to walk through the orchard. It is … _was_ … a favorite place of mine, with good memories." She looked at Tony meaningfully. "I noticed signs that people other than the two of us had been there, and I knew something was coming. I suspect you know the rest, at least, that I packed a bag for Tali, took her to my friend's house, and instructed her to find a way to get her to you if something were to happen. How _did_ she get to you, anyway?"

"Orli brought her," Tony replied, and Ziva showed no sign of being surprised.

"But back to where I was … when I was struggling with everything I had been fighting against, I was too afraid to reach out, lest I lose everything I had worked so hard to build. I had to protect Tali, at all costs."

Silence loomed between them, heavy like fog, despite Ziva knowing that he was expecting more than what she had given him. When she finally spoke, several tense minutes had passed. "I wonder now if my desire to avenge my father is what led me into this spiral."

"I think that you and me, we were always wired for vengeance," Tony responded, thinking of the times in which he'd gone on his own quests for it. Between the two of them, they'd racked up a considerable amount of revenge kills.

An amused smile lit up her face as she stifled a chuckle. "Kort is dead, then?"

He smiled in return before answering. "Multiple bullet wounds to center mass." Tony's smile faded, remembering how killing Kort hadn't really made him feel better. His expression changed to anguish, remembering the way he'd felt, so empty, so hopeless. "I thought you were _dead,_ Ziva."

"I am sorry. I had no other choice. I knew that you would get Kort, and then you would come get me, to let me know that the threat had been neutralized."

Realization dawned on him as he listened to her words. "You sent me Tali so that I would come and find you."

"Yes."

"You couldn't reach out at all?" He was so hurt; Ziva could see it written all over his face. Tony must have gone through hell over the past few years, never having heard from her.

"I did try. It was actually my therapist who had reminded me of actual letters, and so I wrote to you. Multiple times, in fact, but somehow, my letters never made it to you." How many times had she wished that one of them had gotten through? If only _one_ of her letters had made it to him. Tony would know the full depth of her emotions, of how much she'd sacrificed just to ensure Tali's safety.

"Letters," he said softly, absorbing this new information. She _had_ tried to reach out to him? To tell him about Tali? "But when you never heard anything, why didn't you just come back home?"

"I was ashamed," she said slowly, lowering her head slightly at the memory of the emotion.

"Ashamed? Of what? Being pregnant?"

"Of course not, Tony."

"Then what?"

"I was ashamed because I had left, and without so much of a word to most of you, for so long. Gibbs is the only person I called, and that was an hour after you left. The rest of them had to find out from someone else. I didn't even say a proper goodbye to them. How could I face that? I felt like everyone would have been so angry with me for just leaving. And then, after everything we had shared…"

He ignored the last thing she had said, focusing instead on the way the other team members would have reacted. "Maybe they would have been angry, but who cares? I would have been ecstatic to have you home. They would have forgiven you eventually"

 _I would have forgiven you too,_ he thought, looking at her intently, hoping that she would be able to read that in his gaze. "You're like family to all of us, Ziva, and I don't know why after all this time you don't see it. We all missed you. You should have just come back _home."_

"And where would I have stayed?"

Tony swallowed the urge to roll his eyes. Now she was just being difficult. "Oh my god, Ziva, we would have figured it out. None of that is so important that we couldn't have gotten past it. This?" He pointed. "Tali? That's important. You should have found a way to tell me."

"The letters-"

"Never made it to me, obviously. I guess you tried, but maybe you didn't try hard enough. Did you even want me to be in Tali's life?" He realized how varied his responses had been, ranging from tenderness to anger, but he couldn't help it. Everything was so raw. 

Ziva recoiled as though she'd been slapped. How could he even _say_ that? "Of course I did. I showed her your picture every day. I played some random cell phone video you were on just so she could hear your voice. I told her that you loved her, and that we'd all be a family someday." Ziva couldn't finish speaking without choking up, her words getting caught in the back of her throat. The fact that he could even _think_ that she hadn't loved him, hadn't wanted him to be Tali's father after all of the evidence to the contrary – the video, the photograph, everything – hurt her more than anything else that he'd said. "How dare you say that I did not want you in our lives! I may have been afraid, of being killed, of what I was feeling, of what I was doing as a parent, but I _never_ stopped wanting you to be there. I thought about you every day." She was crying openly now, tears running down her cheeks in uncomfortable streaks, several drops falling to the front of her shirt before she wiped the moisture from her face.

Tony sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but he needed Ziva to see that he was hurting, too. "It's just ... I'll never get that time back."

"I know Tony, and I am so sorry. I wish that I could go back and do things differently, but I am inviting you to be a part of our lives now, and for ... good." She wasn't sure what that actually entailed, whether they could be a singular family unit or if they'd have to take turns with Tali just so they could both be in her life, but she wanted him in Tali's life.

 _And my own,_ she thought, and her heart ached with longing. Oh, despite everything that had happened, she wanted him so badly, in a way that she had never wanted before him.

"I want that more than anything." Ziva's face lit up with hope, a shocked smile starting to spread, stopped in its tracks when he continued. "But it's going to take time. I'm still angry, Ziva." She nodded, and he kept going. "I'm so happy you're alive and that we've found you, not just for myself anymore, obviously. And I do want to be a part of your lives, in whatever way you'll have me. But it's going to take me some time to forgive you."

"I know, and I deserve that." Despite the voice of her therapist ringing in her mind, warning her about the use of words like _deserve,_ Ziva couldn't help feeling as though this time, she was allowed to say she deserved something. It was fair for Tony to need time to process everything, and to work through everything she had told him.

"Hey," he said firmly, getting her attention. "You deserve to be happy."

He reached across the gap between the beds and offered her his hand, and she leaned forward and took it, touching him for the first time in nearly three years. He was warm, as he always had been, and his touch was comforting, and entirely something else that she couldn't place, but felt … _right._ "You deserve to be happy, Ziva."

"Maybe I will be, someday."

"You're not happy? You have Tali. She is happy and healthy, and loved more than any other little girl in the world. _You_ gave her that."

"I did, but there is still something missing in my life." She stared directly at him, eyes boring into his soul, and he knew exactly what she was trying to tell him, their hands still joined across the deep gulf between the two beds.

"Me?"

Ziva didn't trust herself to speak, so she merely nodded slowly, stroking his hand with her thumb.

"I am in your life, Ziva. I'm _always_ going to be in your life. _Lives,"_ he corrected, nodding in Tali's direction. "Just because I'm upset with you now doesn't mean that you don't have me. I'm not going anywhere. Last time, you made me leave you because you believed that was what you needed. This time, I'm not going anywhere, and you can physically pick me up and carry me onto a plane home, but I'm letting you know that I'm just gonna turn around and keep coming right back until you accept me as part of your lives."

He squeezed her hand, and pulled slightly, indicating that she should come over to him. She stood up, her hand still in his, and he followed the motion, meeting her in the middle. He wrapped his hands around her waist, and she raised her own arms to pull him into a hug, tentatively at first, but soon they were wrapped up in each other, his arms coming all the way around her waist as he pulled her close. She cried in his arms, and all he could do was hold her.  _Ziva is alive._ Tony breathed in the moment, enveloping himself in her warm embrace, and he closed his eyes in gratitude. Ziva had had her moment with Tali yesterday, and this was _his_ moment, with his ninja back in his arms.

Maybe, after a little bit of time, they would learn how to be okay again.


	7. Gift and Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva continue to talk through their issues, when Tony reveals that he has given up his job at NCIS in order to be a better father to Tali, surprising Ziva.

 

Tony, Ziva, and Tali were walking home, Tony pushing Tali's empty stroller as Ziva carried Tali on her hip, after a great day at the _Parc Zoologique de Paris,_ where Tali had gotten the chance to experience animals from all around the world. They'd all had a blast, taking photos of Tali near some of the animals, and even let her pet some of them, where the park allowed it. Ziva had never taken her to a zoo before, so it was a new adventure for all three of them.

All in all, it had been a successful first day as a family – _or something resembling one_ , Tony thought. After they'd done with the zoo, they'd sat down for dinner nearby before catching a taxi back to their hotel. When they got out of the cab, rather than going straight upstairs, they decided to take a stroll through the city, stopping for ice cream. Ziva had refused her own cone, insisting that Tali would not finish all of the one she'd been given, and after about a dozen bites of the ice cream, Tali had handed the cone off to her mother, and Ziva had given Tony a pointed look that said, _I told you so_ as she finished the treat for herself.

Twilight was looming, and the ever-darkening streets took on an entirely different energy as the various city lights began to come on, illuminating their world and making it seem like a certain type of magic hung in the air, or like the city of Paris had called the stars themselves down to illuminate her beauty.

They strolled slowly along, making their way slowly back to the hotel from where the ice cream shop had been. Ziva was the first to speak, shifting slightly so as to carry Tali more efficiently. "So, how long before you have to be back at work?"

"I don't." He spoke easily, as though he were talking about something mundane. And perhaps it was, if he was thinking about it, because the idea of leaving NCIS seemed so _obvious_ at this point that it seemed ridiculous that it only just occurred to him a few days ago.

Ziva furrowed her brow, turning to look at him quizzically. "You … don't?"

"Ima, walk," Tali interrupted, squirming on her hip and struggling to get down. Ziva set her down on the ground and straightened out her dress, and then took her hand. They slowed to Tali's pace, which really wasn't that much slower than they already had been going.

He shrugged, not wanting to really make an ordeal of it. "I left."

"You left. Just like that?"

"Yeah." It surprised even him how nonchalant he was being about things, but really, ever since he'd left, it had felt like the only correct decision he'd made in the years since he'd left Ziva on the tarmac. Looking back, if he had to pinpoint the exact moment when things in his life had gone south, it would have been the moment that he'd willingly walked away from Ziva David. He continued, since Ziva didn't say anything in response. "I made the decision knowing that Tali had already lost one parent. I wasn't going to put her through losing another."

Ziva smiled, giving Tali's hand a little squeeze without realizing it. "You really are in this thing." It was like she was seeing him anew. Tony, who had always been the Senior Field Agent – prided himself on it, in fact – had given up everything just to ensure that his daughter wouldn't grow up without him, too.

"What thing is that?" He was still wheeling the empty stroller down the street, or he would have reached to take Tali's hand and walk with her between them. Tali was happily padding along, looking at the lights along the Parisian streets, her eyes alight and her mouth open with wonder.

She had not a care in the world, except for her Ima's hand in hers and taking in everything the world had to offer. Tony longed for that kind of innocence again.

"This parenting thing."

He stopped in his tracks, turning to face her, and Ziva turned toward him, as well. Tali decided that she wanted to stand between them, and looked up at Ziva, then to Tony, and back at Ziva again, before deciding to sit down in the stroller. "Sleepy," she said, explaining herself with a rub of her eyes.

"I know, sweet," Ziva said, bending down to do the buckle on the stroller, despite Tali knowing better than to jump up while it was moving. She pressed a kiss to the top of Tali's head, causing her to giggle and scrunch up her face. Tony absolutely adored that face. All of her faces, really. He simply adored his little girl.

 _His little girl._ He still couldn't really believe it, but this little girl was his, and Ziva's, and they were walking down the street casually like this was just a normal weeknight for them. Taking in the sights and sounds of Paris at night.

Once Tali was settled in the stroller, Tony remembered why he had stopped in the first place. "You expected that I _wouldn't_ be in this parenting thing?"

"Well, no … I guess not, but … I don't know." She spoke hesitantly, and Tony knew that he needed to let her keep going, to work through what she was trying to say. "I guess …" She paused again, taking the stroller from Tony and wheeling Tali forward, peeking over the front to see if she was still awake. She was, but her eyes were drooping, and they would likely have to carry her up to the hotel room and put her in bed. "I guess I had been hopeful, even while we were apart, but I did not wish to get my hopes up, in case you would not want … us." Her heart twisted at the mere thought of Tony not wanting them, but she had to be honest with him. They'd promised each other that much.

He met her gaze, looking at her earnestly, ensuring that she was giving him her full attention before he spoke. "I don't plan on becoming that person who comes into her life and then leaves her. I'm in this, and I plan to be in it long term. I adore her, and from the minute I met her, I couldn't imagine there being a single day where I wouldn't want to be around her." _She gets that from you,_ he wanted to add, but didn't. There would be time for that kind of declaration eventually.

They had reached a street corner, and stood in wait for the traffic signal, so they could head back to their hotel and put Tali to bed. She'd been quiet, and when Tony peered around the stroller, he found that she'd fallen asleep, her head leaning comfortably back as she breathed out evenly, her soft features relaxed in slumber. He had never loved anyone more.

The signal changed, and they crossed the street, moving more quickly than they had before. It was not many buildings before they were at their hotel, and it wasn't until they got into the elevator that either of them spoke again.

"So now what?" Ziva asked, her voice quiet, maybe for the sake of not waking their sleeping child, or maybe because she seemed worried about the state of their future, about what this reunion meant for them.

The elevator door slid open and Tony didn't respond, waiting until they made it back to their room, sitting down on the edge of the bed as Ziva slowly pulled Tali out of the stroller so that she could get her into bed. Tali whimpered, rubbing her eyes, but was too sleepy to fight as Ziva took care of the diaper and pajamas before setting her back down on the bed, asleep before her head even hit the pillow. Ziva leaned over and gave her a kiss, settling on the edge of the bed again and waiting for Tony, who had also come to give Tali a good night kiss.

When he sat back down in the chair nearby, she turned to face him, asking the question she had been wanting to voice since he'd arrived in Paris. "So now that you have found me, you are going to want to go back, yes?"

"To NCIS?" She nodded, smiling at his easy understanding of her question. After all this time, they were still so in sync with each other in small yet significant ways. "No, I don't think so."

"No?"

"I think it's time for a change. I'd been there for nearly two decades, on Gibbs' team the whole time. Yeah, I could have gotten my own team. But I don't think it would have changed the fact that things were starting to feel stale for me." Now that the words were out there, Tony realized just how _true_ they were. They weren't just silent doubts in his mind anymore, they were spoken fact, and he meant it. It really _was_ time for him to move on.

"Tony," she gasped, her eyes widening. "I thought you loved NCIS."

"I did." He shrugged, then continued. "Once. But it isn't the same as it used to be. The Probies are getting younger, the tech is getting newer, but the shitbags are still the same. It eats away at you. I didn't realize how much of myself I had given to that place until I finally stepped back."

"I know." What he was saying now, it was not unlike what she had experienced. Sure, she had loved working at NCIS, and being an investigator was much more fulfilling than being an assassin, but she'd realized before she left that the reason she had stayed as long as she had was because of the people, and not the actual work itself.

"I know you know, you were there. And you get it. But it just started to feel like work. And yeah, of course, it's a job, it's supposed to be work. But you know what I mean." She nodded, urging him to continue, and he did, rubbing his forehead absently. "Not fun anymore, the way it once was, but just _work._ I'd get up, come in, go out to whatever crime scene, run down some leads, chase a guy, ice my knees for two days, write a report, and start all over again. Everything started to bleed together. I guess it had been in the back of my mind – quitting, that is – for a while, but then when people came in telling me you were dead and then more people came in with Tali, I knew. It was time to make a change."

Ziva stood up, sliding off her shoes and shoving them into the corner of the room. She flipped the light over Tali's bed off, and walked over to the side of the room, taking the seat opposite Tony. "So what now? What do you want to do?" She paused, then realized how her question might be misinterpreted. "For work, I mean."

He shrugged, letting out a soft chuckle and shaking his head, all in one motion. Ziva sighed inwardly as she watched him, noting just how … _Tony_ he was. She didn't have any other word to describe him. He was just himself, and blast it, she adored him.

"I don't know. When I came home from NCIS that same night, I figured I'd just live off my savings for a bit, try to figure it out. I'm not old enough to retire, but I did have a lot of the money left over from an insurance settlement, from when my apartment got shot up. Right before–" He stopped himself. Right before he had been about to fly to Israel to meet up with her. Could they have started something then, if not for the attempt on his life? Would they have started a family then? He gazed at Ziva, noting that she was similarly lost in thought, and he knew that she must be thinking along the same lines. It was no use thinking of what could have been, though.

That time had passed, and what remained was the present. Their daughter sleeping yards away as they worked together to fix what was broken. They loved each other, and it was painfully obvious, despite being – as yet – unspoken. Tony had seen the way Ziva's eyes had misted over when she showed Tali his photograph in the video, and Ziva had heard him say that he loved her in his own video. Perhaps they had always known, on some level.

"Anyway," he continued softly, tentatively, as though breaking the silence might alter this moment of peaceful comfort between them. "My apartment and car are paid off. I could just work part time or something. Maybe I would have just done the dad thing until Tali was old enough to go to school. There was enough of my own money left for that, and I wouldn't have had to worry about getting someone to watch her." He knew without asking that Senior would have loved the job, but really, he wanted to make up for some of the time he'd lost with Tali.

Ziva was listening intently, a small smile creeping onto her face as he talked about Tali. His love for her was so pure, so obvious. _I never should have doubted, not for a second, that he would adore her._

Tony kept going. "The money wasn't really a concern, is what I'm saying. That's why it was okay for me to travel for a bit, and while it's not really practical traveling with a toddler – something I learned the other day – I figured maybe I'd do some of that anyway. I don't have a return flight booked, if that's what you're asking. But I could book one. For all three of us. If you want to come back."

"I–" Tony put his hand up, stopping her.

"You don't have to decide on anything right now. I want to stay in Paris for a couple of weeks. There's a lot to see, and the last time we were here, we barely got to experience it at all. Tali's too young, but who cares? We're already here." He shrugged lightly before continuing. "Maybe then we can talk about where we're gonna go. But I don't have a visa to stay over here indefinitely, so we _will_ eventually have to go back. Well, I know that I will have to. I don't know your status here."

She ignored the last part. The visa situation was not important right now. "You really want me to come with you, even after … everything?"

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, I really do. I think that we can work through our issues. You had said you were seeing a therapist. Maybe that's something _we_ could do, if you want. Or we could just work on it ourselves." Ziva looked at him intently, her heart pounding in her chest. _He wants me to return with him,_ she thought inwardly. _He wants to try._

His words echoed her thoughts, and she started at the realization. "I want to try, Ziva. I've spent enough of my life away from you. I don't want that for myself anymore." He sat forward again, leaning toward her, and she leaned toward him, too. This time, she was the one to take _his_ hand, and she squeezed it as she gave her response.

"I want to try, too," she breathed, fully realizing the significance of that statement. Before now, she hadn't known if it would even be _possible_ to try to be together, and she hadn't allowed herself to hope for it. But now, with Tony staring into her eyes and pledging to try to make this thing between them work, she actually dared to hope.

"So how do we do this, exactly?" He asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"I have no idea," she teased back, and for a moment, it almost felt like old times. _Almost._ But the silence hung in the air between them, and they sat that way for a few minutes, unsure where to go from where they were standing. 

Tony stood up, pulling her with him, and rather than take her hand away from his like she would have before, she let him pull her over to the other side of the room, only protesting when he sat himself down the bed and started to pull her with him. "Um…" she started, pulling her hand away and stepping back. _Wasn't it just a little too soon for this?_

"Just sit," he instructed, and she looked at him quizzically, not moving. "I want to show you a movie. I'm just gonna connect the portable player up to this TV and we'll watch it. Quietly, so we don't wake Tali."

"Like old times," she said, catching his intention.

He grinned, and then he rifled through his bag for the items he'd need. He plugged the cord into the side of the television, opening the DVD player and inserting a disc. She sat down, scooting across the bed and to the wall, leaning against it with her right shoulder. Ziva wasn't sure if he would expect her to sit closer to him while they were watching, but for right now, she'd feel more comfortable having her own space.

Unfortunately, things were still kind of weird between them, though she was definitely beginning to feel more at ease with his presence. Maybe the awkwardness had something to do with the fact that the last time they'd seen each other, they'd been practically unable to keep their hands off of each other. She shivered at the memory of his hands on her skin, and she almost wished she hadn't protested so quickly to his insistence that she sit on the bed with him.

_Almost._

There would be time for that later. Tony had told her that he was not going anywhere, and so there was no reason to rush into anything. She was content for them to take their time – perhaps not eight years this time – just … not rush things.

Tony hit play on the DVD player and stepped back to the bed, turning the light off before sitting down beside her. If Tony noticed how much space was between them, he didn't say anything, just leaned back and watched as the familiar Disney logo came on the screen to introduce the film.

"A Disney movie? You realize that Tali is asleep, yes?"

"You'll see why I chose this one, I promise," he said softly, turning to give her his most earnest face, earning him a light punch to the arm. "Hey!"

"I can still–"

"Kill me, I know." Shaking his head, he pointed to the TV, where the opening credits were beginning. "I bought a bunch of Disney movies on the way home with Tali the first night, and we watched most of them before we left. This one …" he trailed off, unable to finish what he was about to say. "Just watch."

Ziva chose to obey, settling in and watching the movie, getting swept up in the story. By the time the movie was nearing its end, they had shifted together, and at some point, they'd both ended up lying down more than sitting up. Somehow, she had leaned her head on Tony's shoulder, and he had wrapped his arm around her, keeping her close. She sighed into his embrace, contenting herself with the knowledge that some things between them would never change.

 _"The greatest gift and honor, is having_ you _for a daughter,"_ Fa Zhou said to Mulan on the screen, and Ziva was shocked to find tears welling up in her eyes. Was this movie about herself, and her own desire to honor her father? Or was it about Tony's relationship with Tali? A tear began to roll down her face. 

_Or both?_

When the movie ended, Ziva wiped the tears from her cheeks, turning toward Tony, gasping when she saw that he, too, had tears in his eyes. "Having her is a gift and an honor, Ziva," he said softly, and she swallowed a deep, heavy breath as she gazed at him, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between them. Taking the chance, she leaned forward, kissing him gently – barely – before pulling back again, settling her head against his shoulder, sighing contentedly despite her pounding heart, and it was several minutes before she could even think about anything else but how badly she had wanted  _more_ but simultaneously knew that it was still too much.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his shoulder, and he looked down at her, surprised.

"For what? That?" He couldn't even find the right words at that moment. How would he tell her that she  _never_ had to apologize for kissing him?

"No, for ... everything else, Tony. I can never give you back what you have lost, and for that, I hope that you can forgive me." She sounded strong, but he knew just how vulnerable she really was. Ziva was more open than he'd ever seen her, and he found it hard to stay upset with her when she was so willing to atone for her sins without running away. 

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, his lips lightly brushing through strands of her hair. "We're almost there," he whispered into the night, and she shuddered against him, trying to keep from crying all over again. 

His words rang in her ears as they sat in silence, and her heart felt lighter somehow with the knowledge that Tony would eventually forgive her. Tali was a gift, almost too precious for words. If not for her, then she and Tony would not be sitting together right now, and that too was a gift. Tony reached for the remote and shut the TV off, darkening the room, and it was against his steady breathing that Ziva found herself drifting off to sleep, his arm around her comfortingly as though no time had passed at all.


	8. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony, Ziva, and Tali spend their time in Paris sightseeing, and grow closer in the process.

 

It was a beautiful morning and they had the window open, listening to the sounds of the city below as they got ready to go out for the day. Tony had just finished taking a shower and was still in the bathroom getting dressed, and Ziva was going through Tali's bag in order to get her ready to go. She came across a t-shirt with a skull on it, rolling her eyes and remembering the only woman who would have possibly bought it.

It was actually cute, though, so that plus a pair of jeans would be perfect for today, so Ziva laid them out on the table before going back into the bag for a pair of socks and sneakers. She felt along the bottom of the bag, her finger catching on a chain, and when she pulled it out of the bag, Ziva saw that it was her Star of David necklace. "Mine!" Tali said as Ziva held it up, and it was at that moment that Tony chose to emerge from the bathroom, clad only in boxers.

She had only a moment to get distracted by his near-nudity before Tali shouted, "Mine!" more insistently at her, standing on her tiptoes as she reached for the necklace.

"You gave it to her?" Ziva asked, a lump forming in her throat. She probably would have done the same, perhaps when Tali was old enough to appreciate it, but she was touched that Tony had immediately wanted to give Tali something of her, even when it was the only thing of hers he'd had left.

She reached down and put the chain around Tali's neck, telling her to be careful with it in Hebrew, that it was precious.

"It seemed to calm her down. You don't mind, do you?"

She smiled at him before bending over to pick Tali up for a hug. "Not at all," she answered, turning from him so that she could get Tali dressed for the day.

"Let me get her dressed, Ziva, you still haven't showered yet." She realized that since he'd been here, she'd taken care of Tali every single time, and that maybe Tony should have a chance to take care of her, too. If they were going to work on this _together_ thing, she'd have to relinquish some of the control. And a shower sounded great.

She smiled, setting Tali down on the bed. "I have already gotten her clothes out." She motioned to the neatly folded pile of clothes and Tony nodded, indicating that he had it covered. Ziva gathered her own belongings and slid into the bathroom, and Tony worked on getting Tali dressed.

He felt bad that he hadn't put the necklace back on when they'd gotten through the security checkpoint, but he'd been so frazzled with all of the shit the TSA had put him through that he'd just stuffed the necklace – and some other things – in the bottom of her carry-on bag. It occurred to him that maybe the TSA agent had been in the wrong when they'd made Tali walk through on her own, seeing as she wasn't even two yet, and so he had gone online and checked the regulations, only to find that he _should_ have been allowed to carry her through.

If he thought it would do any good, he'd file a formal complaint, but he doubted it would make a damn bit of difference.

Once Ziva had finished with her shower and all three of them were dressed and ready to go, they head out and into the city again, intent on seeing some of the historic landmarks that Paris had to offer. They weren't really anything that Tali would care to see at her age, but Tony insisted that they experience all of Paris before they left, so they'd wandered around the city, stopping at anything that looked interesting.

Which was how they found themselves at the top of the Eiffel Tower as evening loomed, staring down at the view spread below them, the city sprawling in all directions.

It was breathtaking.

Tony had no idea how long they stayed up there, just looking at the city below. He held Tali up so that she could see, and he and Ziva took turns pointing out things to her, though he was reasonably sure she didn't understand – or care – about any of it. "Look, Tali," one of them would say, pointing at something in the distance, and when she looked in that direction, she would shrug her shoulders and lift her hands up and say, "No see!"

Then all three of them would laugh, and they'd repeat the process.

It was atop of the Eiffel Tower that day turned to night, and all three of them watched as the sun sank below the horizon and the city lit up before their eyes. Tali was chattering happily, mostly nonsense with words sprinkled in between, but Tony and Ziva spoke only in response to Tali, both silently taking everything in.

Their togetherness, for one thing, as Tali leaned her head comfortably on Tony's shoulder, and Ziva reached to take his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers and standing with him, united as they looked out over the world. Together, Ziva felt they could conquer anything; like she was invincible with him by her side as they looked out over the world.

She knew that they still had much to discuss, but they were becoming closer the longer they stayed together, and she had finally started to hope that maybe, after everything, they could be together for good.

Tali had stopped talking, her body limp against Tony's, and Ziva realized that she had fallen asleep. "Oh, my little lamb," she said softly, dropping Tony's hand and running her fingers through her daughter's hair. She leaned over and gave Tali a kiss on the cheek, and she didn't even stir, her arm hanging limply over Tony's shoulder.

"Where's _my_ kiss?" Tony teased with a grin, playing at being offended.

Ziva narrowed her eyes at him with a smirk, saying, "You don't get one until later." Her smile dropped when she realized exactly how that had sounded, and she focused all of her energy on trying not to blush, despite how dark it was at the top of the tower.

If Tony was surprised at her unintentional innuendo, he didn't show it. "I'm going to hold you to that," he said, his voice sounding huskier than he had meant it to. _Damn._ Ziva hadn't been prepared for this sort of sexual charge, not quite yet anyway. There had been a time when they could casually flirt with each other, but those were the times when it hadn't meant anything but a primal, animalistic attraction. A time when there hadn't been real feelings between them, or a child perched on Tony's shoulder who was tangible proof of just how strong the love between them was.

"Maybe I should just kiss you now, and you will not have to collect later," she mused, and she turned to face him, her hand sliding along the railing absently, her heart quickening at the thought. She hoped that he would be the one to lean into her, to brush his lips against hers, and she closed her eyes briefly to imagine how it would feel to have his lips pressed to her own again.

When she opened her eyes, he had leaned forward slightly, and she met his gaze, seeing nothing but longing there, longing that matched her own. "Where are we, Ziva?" he asked softly, his hand tightening around Tali's form protectively, and Ziva shivered, though it was far from cold.

"We're right here," she breathed, and she hoped that Tony would catch her meaning. Sure, they were _here_ in the physical sense, but that wasn't exactly what she meant. They were just in the moment, two people drawn together by some outside force, bound to come together again and again. There was no other way to describe it than that – just two people living in the present, learning to live and love and laugh again in the comfort of each other.

Ziva reached her hand out to touch his waist, pulling him slightly toward her, and that was when he finally closed the distance between them and kissed her, not tentatively like she had last night, but truly, his lips moving against her own and her arm tightening around him. He still held Tali, or he would have wrapped his own arm around Ziva, but they merely held each other tight as they breathed for each other in just that moment, falling in love again atop the starlit Eiffel Tower.

* * *

They'd been wandering around the city for the past few days, seeing a new landmark each day, but last night they had decided to take a day off from the sightseeing, and designated today as a day for hanging out in the hotel room and taking a much needed day of rest.

Tony had brought a bunch of the Disney movies with him, thinking he might need them for the plane, and so he popped one into the DVD player and let it play for Tali, who wasn't terribly interested in sitting still to watch. She preferred running around and jumping on both of the beds, especially the bed that Ima was sitting on, because it caused her to bounce up and down, which was hilarious to Tali.

Neither Tony or Ziva particularly cared about watching the movies that much, so they let Tali do what she wanted, taking turns chasing after her and hoping that they weren't being too noisy for any of the neighboring guests.

"Tali, are you jumping?" Ziva asked animatedly, and Tali stopped jumping for a second, unsure. Ziva took this as an opportunity to teach Tali another word, so she stood up on the bed. "Look, Tali, Ima is going to jump. Watch Ima."

Tali looked at her intently, watching as Ziva hopped on the bed. She didn't want to jump too high, because she wasn't sure these beds would support her weight, but she jumped a few times just to show Tali what it was. "See? Jump." Ziva punctuated the word by actually jumping, and then did the same thing a few more times. "Okay Tali, now you. Say jump."

"Dump!"

"Not _dump,_ jump. _Jump,"_ she repeated, with more emphasis this time.

Tali tried again, struggling to make the sound. "Dyump!" Ziva decided that it was close enough and praised Tali, who decided to use her new word. "Abba, dyump!" She called. When Tony didn't immediately jump, she became more insistent. "Abba, _dyump!"_ she shouted, punctuating her own use of the word by jumping high on the mattress and landing hard, falling to her knees. She giggled, then stood back up, giving the command one more time. "Abba! DYUMP!" she shouted, and finally, Tony stood up from his chair and jumped, as best as he could without the benefit of the mattress beneath him. He was pretty sure that if he jumped up on the bed, he'd hit his head on the ceiling.

"Yayyyy!" Tali screamed, clapping, and Tony walked over to the room and swept her up into a hug, tackling her down onto the bed and attacking her with tickles. "Abba!" she shrieked through her laughter, unable to catch her breath enough to say anything else. Ziva smiled at the way they played together, watching from the edge of the bed. Tali absolutely adored him, without any doubts in her mind, and Ziva wondered if maybe she should start taking cues from their daughter.

When Tony finally let up, he leaned down to kiss Tali on the forehead, and Tali said, "Kisses no tickles," rather firmly, causing Tony to snort with laughter.

"Well guess she inherited your bossiness," he said to Ziva, cocking his head to the side and grinning at her. She stuck out his tongue at him, and he opened his mouth, acting shocked, and reached for a pillow, throwing it at her.

Once Ziva recovered from the surprise of the pillow hitting her in the face, she picked it right back up and tossed it at Tony, the pillow hitting him so hard that he almost fell off the bed. "Oh, this is war, ninja," he said, and grabbed two pillows from the other bed, handing one to Tali and crouching down to her level. "Okay, Tali, we gotta hit Ima with these pillows, okay? Hit her hard!"

Tali nodded earnestly, and then hit Ziva's leg with the pillow, throwing her head back and laughing as she did so. "Really, Tony? You are going to use my own daughter against me?" She picked up another pillow and stood up off the bed, taking a fighting stance.

"It's only fair," he said, swinging at her with his pillow, but Ziva's pillow came to parry his own blow. "You are trained in close combat."

"I am not trained in _pillow_ combat!" she said loudly, striking him in the chest. Tali, still standing on the bed, was swinging her pillow back and forth, hitting the both of them and laughing hysterically each time. Before long, they'd exhausted themselves from both whacking each other with pillows and laughing so hard, and all of them collapsed on one bed, breathing heavily. Tali settled against Ziva, who was leaning against the headboard, and soon Tali was asleep, the exertion having tired her out.

"Looks like someone needed a nap," she said rather unnecessarily, but she was feeling like a nap wouldn't be such a bad thing. Ziva shifted slightly so that she was lying down, and she snuggled with Tali, simply watching her breathing evenly as she dozed, so fiercely loved that she slept easily. It took Ziva much longer to fall asleep these days, but she turned her head to find that Tony, too, was sliding onto the bed, taking the pillow he'd used as a weapon and stuffing it under his head, and she relaxed against him, even when he circled his arm around both of his girls. A few days ago, she might have tensed at this motion, but today, she just craved his closeness, the rise and fall of his chest against her body. They were finally comfortable with each other again.

She'd slept in Tony's arms, and she'd slept with Tali wrapped up in her arms, but she'd never had them both with her at the same time, and Ziva treasured this moment, one of hopefully many firsts they would share as a family.

For she had no doubt in her mind that _family_ was what they were.

* * *

"Can I ask you something?" He asked her over dinner, Tali sitting comfortably in the high chair between them as Ziva handed her a slice of bread.

Ziva furrowed her brow, reaching for her own slice of bread and taking a bite out of it. "We are being honest with each other, are we not?"

He smiled sheepishly. Tony knew that he could ask her anything and that she would answer, but he just needed it as a lead-in, to let her know that what he was asking was important enough for her full attention. Or as full as her attention could be, what with having to make sure that Tali was fed and all.

"What's Tali's full name?"

Ziva stopped what she was doing and lifted her head to meet his gaze, her surprise evident. She hadn't expected him to ask that question, but of course, he should know these things. "Her birth certificate says Tali Elisheva DiNozzo. Talia after my sister, of course, and … Elisheva is the Hebrew equivalent of Elizabeth."

Tony was touched. "My mother's name."

"I wanted to honor your side of the family, and not just mine," she explained, turning back to Tali momentarily to ensure that she was eating, which she was. Surprisingly, Tali did not seem interested in participating in the conversation, only in eating the food in front of her.

"You did that already. You gave her my name." He hadn't even looked at her passport when he'd handed it over to the clerks at the airport, almost afraid to see how Ziva had named her. He hadn't expected that Ziva would have given her his last name, but he was overjoyed to hear it.

"Well, she's _yours."_ Ziva spoke as though it was completely obvious. Perhaps it was.

"I just … would have thought you'd name her Tali David."

Ziva shook her head, closing her eyes against the emotion that name brought her. "That was my sister's name. It will _always_ be my sister's name." He didn't say anything right away, and Ziva continued speaking. "I do not know why you are so surprised that she has your last name. It would not have been right to give her David."

"I would have thought you'd want to honor your legacy," Tony shrugged, taking a bite of bread before he added, "Hyphenate the names or something."

"That never occurred to me, honestly. Hyphenating is not really my style. I was just thinking that maybe if I had a son someday, I'd just name him David. Honor my family in that way."

He'd heard her pronounce her last name so many times that he didn't even make the connection to a first name immediately, and then it clicked. "You'd subject our son to endlessly having to correct people who pronounce it Dayvid?"

Her heart raced at his words. Had he realized what he'd said? _"Our_ son?" She looked away for a moment, concentrating on Tali, trying not to think too hard about the implications of his words. Did this mean …"

"Wouldn't he be?" Tony shrugged again as he spoke, taking a sip of his water and putting his glass back down. He wanted it, and he was pretty sure that Ziva did, so what was the big deal?

 _The big deal_ , he realized, _was that they'd never even considered the possibility of having the first one._ They'd just had her. Tali was perfect, their pride and joy, but she had not been planned, and neither of them had expected to have her. Talking about having a child, _another_ child, was a huge deal.

"I had not–"

Tony interrupted her. "The hell you hadn't," he called her out. "You've thought about it." Ziva nodded slowly, remembering that they had promised to be honest with each other, be open. This was a part of that, and with Tony on the same page, opening up didn't have to be anything terrifying.

"You want to have another child with me." It was not a question, but a statement, one that Ziva still doubted slightly, and Tony set down the fork he'd picked up, giving her what she called his serious look, the way his lips pursed together as he stared at her intently.

"I want to have a _life_ with you. If that includes another child, then yes, I want that." It was the closest he had come to telling her that he loved her, and he almost didn't hold back this time. How much longer would he be able to keep from saying it?

Ziva's jaw dropped, and she was just about to respond when Tali spoke to her. "Ima!"

"What baby?" She cooed, giving Tali her full attention again.

"Hungry," she whined, and Ziva couldn't blame her there. Their food was taking forever.

Tony laughed, interjecting, "Me too! Where do you think our food is?" Tony made a big show of holding his arms out in an animated shrug, distracting Tali by making some faces. He wasn't sure, but it looked like their food was coming out to them now, and soon they'd have their mouths full and the conversation will have passed.

Tony reached for Ziva's hand across the table, causing her to look straight into him, as though she was able to see all the way into his heart. "I meant what I said, Ziva. I want a life with you." _Say it,_ he told himself, and he blurted it out before he lost his nerve. "I love you, and I can't imagine sharing a life with anyone else."

Before Ziva had a chance to respond, the waiter was at their table, and he was setting their food down in front of them. She alternated feeding Tali and eating her own meal in a daze, her mind hazily focused on the fact that Tony had said he loved her, that he wanted to be with her, and that she hadn't said it back.

_Yet._

* * *

Today was their last day in Paris. They'd been around the city, seen all of the beauty it had to offer, and they'd made the decision that they would return to DC together, their vacation together exactly what they both needed to realize that things could work out between them; that they could be happy in a life together. Tony had steered their course after lunch, and he'd asked Ziva to trust him as he pushed Tali's stroller through the streets of Paris, Ziva's arm never leaving his back for more than a few seconds.

When they arrived at the _Pont des Arts_ bridge, Ziva knew what Tony's intention was, and she stopped him before he had a chance to speak. "I thought people were not supposed to do this anymore."

Tony pulled out a padlock, showing it to her. He'd written _Tony + Ziva 2016_ on one side, and _Tali brought us together_ on the other. "Yeah, well, I'm ignoring that."

Ziva opted to ignore the sentiment on the lock in favor of admonishing him. "Barely two weeks outside of law enforcement and you're already promoting lawlessness." Tali fussed in her stroller, and Ziva pulled her out and sat her on her hip, letting Tali interact with them at their level.

"It's just one padlock, it's hardly being lawless," Tony argued.

"That's just how it _starts."_

"Whatever," he said, and he turned the key, pulling the end of the lock out of its hole and looping it around the fence, snapping it shut. He held it in his hand for a moment before pulling the key out, holding it up in the air in front of his daughter. "Tali, throw this key in the river, will you?"

"-iver?"

"Yeah, in the river. Like this," he said, demonstrating the throwing motion. She mimicked it, dropping the key on the ground rather than into the river below. Tony bent down and picked it up, handing it back to her. "Try again. Throw it in the water."

"Water," she echoed, looking down over the bridge. Ziva held her firmly, ensuring that she wouldn't squirm too far over the edge of the railing.

"Yeah, water." This time, Tali wound her hand back and when she released the key, it soared over the edge of the bridge and into the river below. Despite Ziva's misgivings, she finally realized the implications of this padlock, of what Tony was trying to say about the two of them by locking it up and throwing the key away. She watched the river running beneath them for a little while, and then reached for Tony's hand, interlocking her fingers with his.

"Tony, I–" she cut herself off, taking a deep breath. He squeezed her hand, and that gave her the strength to say it. "I love you," she breathed, and Tony pulled her into him – Tali and all – and kissed her hungrily, one hand tangling in the hairs at the nape of her neck, and the other one wrapping to pull his family closer to him. The padlock, with all three of their names written on it, would leave its mark on this city in much the same way that the city had left a mark on them.

Three people had entered Paris, but a family would be leaving.

 


	9. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to fall into place.

 

_One Month Later – Saturday Afternoon_

Tony walked into the door of their apartment, the cake balanced precariously on his left arm, bags slung over the other, smiling as he took in the now familiar sight before him: Ziva and Tali sitting together in the living room, usually engaging in some sort of play, both turning to greet him as he came into the apartment.

When they'd come back from Paris, Ziva and Tali had moved into his apartment. It wasn't ideal, since it was only one bedroom, but they'd decided on the plane that they would look for a house, and buying a house wasn't exactly an instant affair. Currently, they were in the process of purchasing a house, but they knew when they first came back that they'd be staying at Tony's apartment for at least a couple of months, and planned accordingly, which meant buying two beds.

A toddler bed for Tali, of course, which they'd stuffed into the corner of the living room and blocked off by a portable partition wall, and a queen-sized bed for Tony and Ziva, because Tony still hadn't upgraded to a bigger bed since the last time Ziva had stayed there. The day the new bed had been delivered, they'd dismantled the old one and just put it off to the side, leaning it against the bedroom wall, deciding that they would take it on to their new house and use it for a guest room, or maybe it would be suitable for Tali when she got older.

It was cramped quarters, but it was temporary, and what mattered was they were together.

Tonight, however, the apartment would feel even smaller, as most of the NCIS team plus Tony's father were coming over for Tali's second birthday party. Tony had been to the grocery store to pick up the cake, along with some paper plates and napkins, since Ziva had forgotten them on her last trip.

"Abba!" Tali cried, running toward him and wrapping her arms around his legs. Ziva strolled up behind her, leaning over to kiss Tony as she took the cake out of his hands, earning her a grateful grin. The last thing he wanted to do was drop it, which might have happened with the way Tali had almost knocked him off balance.

They weren't really planning to have too grand an affair, but it had been a while since the whole gang had gotten together since both Tony and Ziva had decided not to return to NCIS, though Vance had offered both of them the chance to return, if they wanted to. Tony had been the first to decline, stating that the job was too risky and he needed to be around to protect his family; they came first.

Perhaps another opportunity that _didn't_ involve the potential to be shot at would arise, but for now, he was content to stay at home with his family and take some much needed time for them.

Once Tony set down all of the things he had bought at the store, he bent over and swooped Tali into his arms, kissing her on the cheek. "And who's my birthday girl?" he asked, and Tali looked confused at the question. She was still too young to really understand the concept of birthdays, but they'd been saying things about her birthday all day regardless.

"Ir-day girl?" she repeated, smiling when Tony gave her a slight squeeze.

"Right, Tali. Who's my birthday girl? Is it … Ima?" Tony intentionally drew the sentence out, hoping to make Tali laugh. It worked, as she erupted into giggles. Tali absolutely loved when Tony got silly with her, and once Ziva had finished putting the cake on the counter top, she stood and watched their interaction from the kitchen.

God, he was always so good with her.

"Ima," Tali replied to Tony's question, and he leaned in and shook his head, nuzzling her forehead as he did so, which made Tali scrunch up her neck and gurgle.

"No, it's not Ima. Ima's not the birthday girl. Who is it?"

Tali pointed at Tony, poking him in the chest. "Abba?"

"No, it's not Abba. Abba's not the birthday girl." He blew a raspberry at her, and then asked again.  
"Who's my birthday girl?"

She finally pointed at herself, pronouncing her name very deliberately, her voice raising an octave with the second syllable. "Tali?"

"That's right! It's Tali!" he praised, giving her a tight hug and showering her with kisses. She leaned over and kissed him back, patting him on the back and waiting for his return pat, which he happily gave.

"Okay sweetheart, you're getting heavy," he said, putting her down and letting her run around the house. She ran over to the living room where she and Ziva had been playing with a dollhouse that Senior had bought for her.

"Ima play!" Tali called, and Ziva stepped over to Tony, giving him another quick kiss before walking back into the living room to play with Tali. Tony grabbed a bottle of soda from the fridge and then followed Ziva into the room, taking a seat on the sofa and watching his girls playing make-believe.

 _This is the life,_ he thought as he put his feet up on the coffee table. Ziva was back and an actual part of his life, and they were building a family together. They were _happy._ After everything they'd gone through, after all of the heartache, they were finally on the same page. Even though they'd gotten settled quickly into a routine back in DC, it still seemed surreal to him that this was his life.

The ringing of his phone interrupted his thinking, and he got up from the sofa and ran to get it. They were expecting guests in about an hour, so it might be one of them calling.

"Hello?" he said, not bothering to look at the caller ID on the screen before answering.

"Mr. DiNozzo, this is Carrie over at Coldwell Banker, how are you?"

He walked with the phone back to the living room, sitting back down. "I'm fine, actually, how are you?"

"I'm great. I have some news about the house you put an offer in on the other day, and–"

"Oh hold on, let me put you on speaker so that Ziva can hear." At the sound of her name, Ziva looked up at him quizzically, standing up from her position on the floor and crossing toward him, sitting down next to him. Tali, for her part, was still playing quietly and was oblivious to the fact that his parents were on an important phone call. "Okay, go ahead."

"Hi, Mrs. DiNozzo," the real estate agent greeted.

Ziva didn't bother to correct her despite the sudden jump her heart made, but instead just responded politely. "Hello," she began, tilting her head in Tony's direction. "You have news?"

"I _do._ The sellers have accepted your offer on the house, and they want to close in sixty days, so all you'll need to do is come by my office tomorrow and sign some paperwork, and you'll have purchased your house!"

Ziva gasped, covering her mouth, and Tony grinned widely. The house was everything they'd wanted for their family, and they'd been anxiously awaiting the seller's response to their offer. They hadn't wanted to get their hopes up because a deal can always fall through, but now they wouldn't have to worry about looking for something else.

Tony finished speaking with the agent, setting up an appointment for the two of them to go and sign all of the paperwork and then hung up the phone. He tossed it on the table, reaching over and pulling Ziva into a hug. Tali, finally noticing that Ziva had stepped away from their playdate, ran over and pulled Ziva by the arm, and Ziva followed as she tugged, saying, "Ima, _play!"_

"Okay, sweetheart, I'll play."

"Hey Tali, you wanna see Papa?" Tony called from the across the room. Tali adored her grandfather, and the feeling was entirely mutual. Every time Senior came over, he had something new to give her. He was spoiling her, and Senior absolutely did not care in the slightest. He'd told Tony that Tali was his only grandchild and that this was just what grandparents _do._

Tali looked up, searching the room. "Papa where?"

"He's not here yet, he's coming though. Later," Tony said, trying to reassure her.

"Papa now!" She shrieked, not understanding why Tony would mention Papa if he wasn't already there. For Tali, it was quite literally out of sight, out of mind, except when it came to Ima, and sometimes Abba.

"He will be here soon, my little lamb, but you must be patient," Ziva interjected, trying to get her attention with one of the dolls, but Tali pushed it away as she started to wail.

"No! Want Papa!" She threw her head back and cried loudly, babbling incoherently about Papa through her tears. Ziva put the toy down and picked Tali up, trying to comfort her, but Tali stiffened and threw her head back, letting out another loud scream.

Tony shot her a look that clearly said, _nice job,_ but Ziva merely shrugged back at him. Pretty much anything could send a two-year-old into a tantrum, so she would not be so quick to take the blame for it.

And besides, Tony was the one who had even mentioned his father in the first place. "You need a nap, little one," she said soothingly, and Tali whimpered in her arms, some of the fight going out of her. Ziva carried her to the bedroom, opting to lay her down in there. During the day, it was much easier to get Tali down for a nap if she wasn't in the same room as her parents, and so Ziva would get her settled into the big bed for daytime naps and in her own bed at night.

It wasn't ideal, but it was the best they could do with the space they had. Two months from now, Tali would have her own room. The thought of actually owning the house made Ziva giddy. _Purple,_ she thought, _I'll decorate Tali's room with purple, and maybe a complimentary blue._

"Sing?" Tali asked weakly as Ziva laid her down, and Ziva sat at the edge of the bed, her hand on Tali's back as she began to sing a familiar Hebrew lullaby.

In the living room, Tony smiled as he heard the sound of her voice wafting through the apartment. _What a beautiful transformation in Ziva_ , he mused, that she had stepped so flawlessly into motherhood. The fact that Tali was _his_ and that she was growing and learning new things every day was amazing, as well, but he just couldn't get over how maternal Ziva was. He longed for the chance to see her with a baby, to experience that with her, but for now, he was content to let her be Tali's mother. Her Ima.

Ziva slid out of the bedroom, leaving the door cracked open slightly. Tali was evidently asleep.

"You're such a wonderful mother," Tony said, catching her eye as she came back into the room. She blushed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, but chose not to respond, instead sitting down on the couch sideways, bending one knee inward so that the bottom of her foot was touching her thigh.

She reached over and grabbed his bottle of soda from the table, opening it up and taking a sip of it before leaning to put it back, but Tony intercepted her and took it so he could take a swig of it himself. He replaced the lid and set it down before leaning back into the seat. Something else occurred to him, and he _had_ to ask her about it. "You didn't correct the real estate agent."

"Huh?" She asked, having obviously forgotten about the agent's mistake.

"When she called you 'Mrs. DiNozzo,' you didn't correct her," was the explanation. He hadn't asked a question, but Ziva knew that he was waiting for a response.

She shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal about it. "What would have been the point? It was an honest mistake, one that is easy to make."

"Maybe it doesn't have to be a mistake," he said quietly, and Ziva's heart jumped into her throat, stealing her breath from her. _He couldn't really mean …_ she closed her eyes briefly, just long enough to take a deep breath and compose her thoughts, and when she opened them again, he held a box in his hands.

A velvety box. A jewelry box.

_A ring box._

"Tony?" She practically choked on his name. If he was really asking, oh _god_ the answer was absolutely _yes,_ but she hoped that he was not toying with her emotions, that this was real. She met his gaze, searching, before turning her attention back to the box in his hand.

"Open it, Ziva," he said softly, and with shaking hands, she reached over and popped it open, revealing a simple, beautiful diamond ring on a platinum band. Simple, elegant, and _real._

" _Tony,"_ she gasped again, unable to really say anything else. Her mind was racing as she looked from the ring to him and back again, unable to hear anything over the pounding of her heart, the way her nerves were racing as she waited for him to speak, to _just ask her already._

"Ziva, I … I wanted to say some things, but … god, you know how much I love you already, right?" She nodded, urging him to continue. "So I'm just gonna …" he slid off the couch, wanting to do this the right way. "Ziva, will you marry me?"

Tears sprang into her eyes as she nodded vigorously, barely trusting her voice, but she owed him at least that much. "Yes," she breathed, not caring how much her voice carried the distinct lilt of longing, of _need._ She had wanted this desperately, and now it was right before her, the only man she'd ever wanted offering her one of the few things she had left to want. He took the ring out of the box and slid it on her finger, and she slid off of the couch and into his arms for a kiss, circling her arms around his neck and embracing him passionately. "I love you," she breathed between kisses, and her heart soared when he said it back, as it had every time before and would for every day to come.

* * *

 

" _Happy birthday to you!"_ Everyone sang as they crowded around the table, and Ziva encouraged Tali to blow out the lone candle on the cake, a colorful "2" that she should have little trouble blowing out. Ziva had demonstrated before the party, and Tali was a pro, blowing out the candle, to the applause of everyone in attendance.

Senior was there, of course, standing next to Tony, and Gibbs stood on the opposite side of Ziva. McGee was there as well, though sadly Delilah was still out of the country and unable to make it. Abby had come, bearing a mountain of gifts and earning a stern, "You shouldn't have," from Ziva. Next to her stood Ellie, as she was someone that Tony had enjoyed working alongside, and then Jimmy and Breena, and their daughter Victoria, who wasn't quite old enough to appreciate the proceedings. Ducky had also come by, though he'd promised not to stay too long.

Tali had loved seeing Victoria, patting her and saying, "baby," and giving her light kisses. Victoria wasn't walking yet, but she would crawl around the house, following Tali around. Tony had joked to Jimmy that their daughters might be great friends someday, and Jimmy had responded that it looked like they already were.

This hadn't been the first time most of the team had seen Ziva again, as they'd gone as a family to meet with many of them individually. Tony had called McGee first, inviting him to come over for some "guy time," as he'd put it, and he'd surprised his former colleague when Ziva turned around on the sofa, causing Tim to nearly faint on the spot. When he had finally recovered from the shock, he'd hugged Ziva for a long time, tears running down his cheeks as he told her, for the second time in his life, that he was so glad she was alive.

Tony had instructed Tim to share the news with the rest of the folks at NCIS, and soon their phone had started ringing off the hook. They made plans to meet up with everyone on their own time, refusing to have a huge welcome party. Tony had even introduced Ziva to Ellie, and Ziva had taken an instant liking to the younger agent, offering to show her how to kick the boys' butts.

Deciding to have a party for Tali's birthday had seemed like perfect timing. They'd been home for a month at that point, and it seemed like the perfect time to celebrate their family.

Their _family._ Ziva looked down at the ring she now wore on her finger and smiled inwardly. She still could not believe they were here, like this. They hadn't made a big announcement about their engagement because this was Tali's day, but she hadn't exactly been hiding the ring on her finger, so if someone noticed, they'd say something, but if not, they'd just announce it some other time. Since they'd come back together, Tony and Ziva had made the decision that they would keep their relationship as simple as possible, and with as little fuss as they could manage.

So they quietly kept it to themselves as they cut the cake, doling out slices to each of the family members. "This is delicious," Abby said with her mouth full as soon as she took a bite, and the rest of the room nodded in agreement.

"-ibbs!" Tali shouted from below the stoic team leader, and Gibbs looked down, offering her a smile as he set his paper plate down on the nearby counter. "Up!"

"All right, birthday girl," he said, bending down to scoop her up.

"Tali!" she said, proud of herself for finally knowing that birthday girl meant _her._ Gibbs doted on Tali. He tried not to overstep too much since Senior was _really_ her grandparent, but Ziva had insisted that it was quite all right if Gibbs wanted to play the role of another grandfather. He'd eventually agreed, finally letting the little girl who had charmed everyone at NCIS a month and a half ago into his heart. He missed having Tony and Ziva on the team, but they had a much more important job to do now, and he didn't begrudge them for wanting to do it. Gibbs hadn't been sure if he really wanted Tali to call him _Grandpa_ though, so he let Tali decide, and soon he simply became "-ibbs."

Gibbs carried Tali around the room, and she pointed to all of the people she knew. "Ima. -Immy. Beena. Babby. Unca Tim! Ducky. Elwie. Abba. Vitora. -Ibbs!" She struggled to pronounce some of their names properly, but she'd learned who everyone was easily, since she'd met all of them individually.

"Well done, Tali!" Ziva praised, and as soon as she heard her mother's voice, she wanted no one else. She reached for her, stretching her arms out and away from Gibbs, and Ziva looked at him apologetically.

"No need to worry about it, Ziver," he said, handing her over. "She just wants her mother."

"She is not lacking for love, though," Ziva observed, and Gibbs nodded in agreement. All of these people who had come to her party would always be a part of her life, just as they had been a part of the lives of her parents. While Tony, Ziva, and Tali made up their own small family unit, they had quite the extended family in NCIS.

Ziva carried Tali to the living room and Tony gathered everyone together so that they could open presents. There was a pretty good stack of them, especially considering the size of their group. Ziva sat on the floor and gathered Tali into her lap, and Tony sat behind her on the couch, her back resting between his knees. Ziva grabbed the first present, showing Tali how to open them.

One present was all it took, and soon Tali had torn through every present in the room, leaving a whirlwind of chaos in her wake. The living room was covered in wrapping paper, and toys were strewn everywhere. Ziva had wanted to keep track of who had given what, but Tali had made sure that was impossible. Tony had gotten the whole thing on video, and he'd had to try hard to suppress his laughter at what he would later call _Tornado Tali._

Ziva pulled Tali back to sit down on her lap again. "What do you say to people when they give you things?"

Tali stared at her, saying nothing because she was still too young to really understand the concept of gratitude or why it was necessary to say thank you. Still, it wasn't too early to start teaching her the words, so Ziva prompted her that way. "Say _thank you,"_ she prodded, and Tali stared at her silently as she reached for one of her new toys, a doll that talked if you pressed buttons on her belly.

"Tali, say _thank you,"_ Ziva repeated, but Tali ignored her. She'd had a busy night, and there was no use pestering her, so Ziva shrugged, looked around the room, and said it herself. "Thank you all for everything. We are so glad you could come." Tony slid down from the couch, sitting beside Ziva and wrapping his arm around her, gathering her close.

Victoria was growing cranky, and so Jimmy and Breena circulated the room, saying goodbye to everyone for the night. Ducky had left before presents were even opened, and slowly, everyone else started to filter out, leaving only Senior to help them clean up.

"Dad, you don't have to stay. We've got this," Tony said, trying to push him out the door. It wasn't that he didn't want his father around, but he didn't feel like Senior needed to exert himself cleaning up after other people.

"Nonsense, Junior, you're probably both itching to get to bed too, and the faster you get this cleaned up, the sooner you can get some rest. Let me help you."

Tony didn't feel like arguing anymore, and so he and Senior set about picking up the mess of wrapping paper that Tali had made. Ziva had gotten Tali changed into her pajamas and was now singing to her softly, her voice carrying from behind the partition that they'd put up. Soon, the mess was cleaned up and Ziva's singing stopped, indicating that Tali was asleep for the night. Ziva emerged from Tali's temporary room to find that the living room was nearly spotless. She plopped down on the couch with a sigh.

"When were you planning on telling everyone about that new piece of jewelry?" Senior asked, sitting down across from Ziva and looking at his son pointedly.

"Whenever someone noticed," Tony shrugged, and he put his arm around Ziva. "I only just asked her today, so it was kind of nice to keep it to ourselves for a little bit."

"Well it's about time, Junior, now that granddaughter of mine can have a proper family."

"We have always been a family," Ziva supplied, leaning her head on Tony's shoulder. And it was true, they had been. From the moment they'd met up in Paris, they'd been a unit. Maybe a unit that wasn't quite in sync yet, but a unit nonetheless. Marriage would only make it official.

"I'm glad," Senior said, smiling at the two lovebirds. He was tired, and he could tell that they were tired, and so he allowed Tony to see him out of the apartment. Ziva was already in the bedroom changing into a t-shirt and shorts by the time Tony came back in the room, and by the time he came out of the bathroom from brushing his teeth, she was already in bed. _Their_ bed. The bed they had chosen together, as a unit, as a _family._

Tony slid in beside her, gathering her in his arms. "We have a two-year-old," she murmured, a small smile spreading on her face.

He leaned in and kissed her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close, and despite being very tired, she felt the heat building between them, as it always had. "We could have another," he breathed against her neck, and she shuddered against him, his words causing her to melt.

"Let's wait until after we are married first," she breathed, pulling away slightly and leaning her head against his shoulder, kissing him there.

"That's not a _no,"_ he teased, and Tony lifted her chin so she was looking at him, a grin on his face. "We could always just get married tomorrow."

"Why don't we talk about it then?" she said with a yawn, leaning back against him. "It's not as though there is any rush."

"Tomorrow then," he breathed, running his fingers through her hair. Tomorrow he would convince her that they should just get a marriage license and get it taken care of. Now that she had agreed to be his wife, he just wanted it to be official. Sure, they had the rest of their lives, but why wait? "I love you," he added, kissing the top of her head.

"Love you too." Her voice was sleepy, her words slurred against his skin. It wasn't long before she drifted off to sleep, and Tony's last thought before he finally drifted off was that feeling that he and Ziva were finally right where they belonged.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was the end of this story. As much as you have all loved it (and I have, as well), I never intended this to be any longer than it is, and updating every day is - simply put - exhausting. I want to thank all of you who have tweeted me, messaged me on tumblr, reblogged screaming in the tags, or left me a fave, follow, or review here. All of the support has been amazing and is absolutely appreciated.
> 
> Many of my future oneshots may exist in this very universe, so don't feel as though this is ending. It's just the beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think.


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